
Book M ^C \k'^ 






%: 



I 



Commemorative Sketch 



REV. E. P. WILD, D.D, 

Pastor of the Co?ig?^egational Churches at Craftsbury, 
Newp07't and Ma7tchester, Vt. 

WITH 

SELECTIONS FROM HIS WRITINGS IN 
PROSE AND VERSE 



PRIVATELY PRINTED 






Source nnknowR 

SEP 25 1313 



171, 173 Macdougal Street, New York 



PREFATORY NOTE. 



It is not for purposes of conformity to the already 
established precedent of printing memorials to departed 
friends that this little volume appears. Consider rather 
that these selections are made public in order to pay a 
tribute to a revered memory, and to gratify the earnest 
request of appreciative admirers, to whom the example ot 
such a thoroughly devoted, gentle, faithful. Christian life, 
is ever a source of blessing. 

Another motive has none the less actuated the compilers 
in their delicate undertaking. It has been the hope that 
the choicest and tenderest thoughts of the subject of this 
memorial, herein printed, may, in a measure, tend to the 
advancement of that Great Cause for which '^ he, being 
dead, yet speaketh," and to which he was altogether 
consecrated. 

Harmoniously with the characteristic aversion to pub- 
licity known to have been entertained by the deceased, it 
was decided that this collection and sketch should be pri- 
vately printed and disposed of to personal friends only. 

It is fitting in this note to acknowledge with gratitude 
the services of those friends, who, by advice, assistance, 
and warm interest have supported this endeavor. 

Payson S. Wild, 
Manchester, Vt., March, 1892. 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 



Eulogy is not the purpose of this narrative, nor a 
detailed delineation or critical analysis of character ; 
neither is its design to add to the numberless biographies 
already before the public : but to offer a tribute of affec- 
tion, in behalf of personal friends, to the memory of one 
greatly beloved by all who knew him, and the example 
of whose Christian life may yet be a stimulus to those who 
survive. It is always difficult to portray character justly. 
Words are ever inadequate to set forth the inner processes, 
and unveil the hidden life — its ambitions, fears, con- 
flicts and final self-mastery. Yet certain personal qualities 
appear, which invariably win our confidence and affection 
and reveal the operation of divine grace, and these fruits, 
visibly borne, are the witness of the life within. 

It may truthfully be said that the subject of the sketch, 
though sensitive to the appreciative judgment of others, 
and possessing the ordinary ambitions of men, not only 
never aspired to fame, but probably never imagined that 
the record of his life would have any special interest to 
those who should live after him. His instincts shrank 
from notoriety, and only in self-sacrifice for the good of 
others, which was the ruling aim of his life, would he have 
consented even to this memorial. 

The natural order of events is followed, without attempt 
at grouping or analysis, as the more simple, suggestive and 
satisfactory to those for whom the sketch is prepared. 



8 A Commemorative Sketch. 

In the family record, May 7, 1829, is the date of the 
marriage of Daniel Wild, of West Fairlee, Vt. , to Huldah 
Washburn, of Royal ton, and July i, 1830, marks the date 
of the settlement of the Rev. Daniel Wild, as the second 
pastor of the First Congregational Church in Brookfield. 
His lineage is traced through the early settlers of Brain- 
tree, Mass., to the Pilgrim stock, and his father, a quiet, 
earnest Christian man, was one of the first settlers of West 
Fairlee, under the auspices of the Hon. and Rev. Nathan- 
iel Niles. A graduate from the University of Vermont, 
in 1828, and, after further study, having received a license 
to preach from the Orange Association, he entered at the 
above date, upon a fruitful ministry of nearly forty years 
at Brookfield. His wife, Huldah Washburn, was a 
daughter of the Rev. Azel Washburn, second pastor of the 
Congregational Church in Royalton, a native of Middle- 
boro, Mass., and a graduate at Dartmouth College in 1786, 
with one of the first honors of his class. Through six 
generations her ancestry is traced to John Washburn, the 
progenitor of all the families of that name in New Eng- 
land, who was probably the first Secretary of the Council 
of Plymouth in England, settled in Duxbury, Mass., about 
1630, and, with one of his sons, subsequently became the 
original proprietor of the town of Bridgewater, Mass. 
One of her brothers was the beloved pastor of the Con- 
gregational Church in Amherst, Mass., 1826-32, and two 
of her sisters married clergymen, of whose sons three are 
now in the ministry. 

To this young pastor and his wife at Brookfield, were 
born three children, a daughter, who died in infancy, and 
two sons, the younger of whom, the subject of this narra- 



Rev. E. P. Wild, D.D, 9 

tive, was born June 4, 1839. Twenty-five years later, 
writing upon his birthday with reference to that event, he 
said, ^^I shouldn't wonder if the clouds dropped a few 
tears on the occasion: they have dropped a good many 
over me since then — more than enough to baptize me into 
this world of sin. ' ' 

The infant, born as above, received from his parents in 
baptism the name of the eminent and godly Portland 
divine, Edward Payson. He was by no means of a 
robust constitution, and only the tenderest maternal cares 
brought him forward to a comparatively vigorous youth. 
Reticent and sensitive, yet bright and quickly receptive, 
the home was always his refuge, and the home training of 
just that nature as to develop certain critical and moral 
traits, as well as a strongly affectionate disposition, which 
were characteristic of his later life. Especially was his 
mother the object of his reverence and love. Those who 
heard it will never forget the positiveness and tenderness 
with which, before the council for his installation at 
Manchester in 1888, he referred his first conscious relig- 
ious impressions to the incident, when he was but four 
years old, of unexpectedly finding his mother alone at 
prayer for her children on a Sabbath afternoon. One of 
the earliest of his conceptions found its poetic expression 
under the title of "Mother, Home, and Heaven^ The 
sudden death of his mother just at the beginning of his 
ministry he recorded as ^^ an event that changed the 
current of my whole life ; ' ' and the following tribute 
subsequently written, attests the strength of his affection, 
^^Dear Mother! . . . her loving counsels and tender 
interest, her patient teaching and fervent prayers, can I 



lo A Commemorative Sketch. 

ever forget them? . . . Her last words to me were the 
same ' Good-bye ' that she had always used in my infancy, 
. . . and I shall feel the stimulus of that ^ Good-bye ' till 
I meet her again on the other side. ... I love to think 
that, next to the Saviour's grace. Mother's love follows and 
blesses me in all my work." Other occasions also, the 
death of special friends and intimate school associates 
earlier in life, and later the death of his own children, 
bear witness to the depth and strength of his affectionate 
nature. The home friends, the incidents and experiences 
of his early home life, remained the objects of his deepest 
life-long attachment and memory. This single trait un- 
doubtedly, coming more and more under the adjustment 
of a calm and rational faith, was no small element in 
rendering him apparently so happy, and so successful in 
overcoming difficulties in his own domestic life. In his 
earliest school life other traits which marked his manhood 
also began to appear and crystallize into permanency — 
conscientiousness, quick perception, easy acquisition, re- 
tentive memory, warm attachment to genial mates, an eye 
and taste for the beautiful, and withal a self depreciatory 
judgment. Music was his favorite pastime, in which he 
became proficient with little instruction, and the rythmical 
description of common events was not infrequent. He 
had also a keen sense of the ludicrous side sometimes even 
of serious affairs. 

In March, 1853, in his fourteenth year, with several 
others, himself the youngest, he united with the church in 
Brookfield upon profession of faith, and though afterwards 
he sometimes doubted the reality of his understanding of 
that act, he yet regarded it as the crisis of his religious life. 



Rev. E. P. Wild, D.D. ii 

From that time his plans for the future began to enlarge 
and take a more definite aim. He entered enthusiastically 
upon studies preparatory for college at the Academy at 
Royal ton and afterwards at Randolph, and in 1856, at the 
age of seventeen, entered the Freshman Class in Middle- 
bury College, with the purpose already formed to become 
a minister. In college his rank in scholarship was at 
once among the first, and by certain inimitable personal 
qualities he became a general favorite with his associates. 
His room-mate after the first year was the late Rev. Giles 
F. Montgomery, Missionary of the American Board at 
Adana, Turkey, to whom he became warmly attached, 
and to whose influence and counsel he acknowledged a 
frequent indebtedness. He paid a loving tribute to this 
class-mate after his death, in the columns of the Verinont 
Chronicle, the following words of which find a no less 
fitting application to himself, ^^his work was done mod- 
estly and gently, but it was a powerful w^ork. . . He blew 
no trumpet, he made no great stir, but he w^orked till he 
died. He was faithful unto death. And I know he must 
be one of those who will shine as the stars forever and 
ever." Among his college class-mates also were Dr. M. 
H. Eddy, now of Middlebury, Rev. Henry P. Higley, 
D.D., late of Beloit, Wis., Hon. E. B. Sherman, L.L. D., 
of Chicago, Dr. Henry F. Walker, of New York, and 
Rev. John K. Williams, of Peacham. His college ex- 
periences and associations were ever held as among the 
choicest and pleasantest of his life. His part at the 
Junior Exhibition of his class w^as the salutatory, and a 
philosophical oration at graduation in i860. Of a class 
of twenty he was the fourth deceased in thirty years. 



12 A Commemorative Sketch. 

Before leaving college he had his first experience in teach- 
ing in a winter's district school in Brookfield, near his 
home, which he undertook with characteristic self-distrust 
and shrinking, but in which he was successful. He also 
taught one term as an assistant in Craftsbury Academy, 
continuing the studies of his class as well as he was able. 

The fall after his graduation he taught the Academy at 
Enosburgh, in which he had been preceded by his room- 
mate, Montgomery, and boarded in the family of the pastor, 
Rev. Cephas H. Kent. There he won not only the 
respect but the warm affection of his pupils, some of 
whom he was instrumental in leading to the Christian life. 
Following immediately the seclusion of college life it was 
a period of delightful expansion of enthusiasm and respon- 
sibility in new channels of activity, of which he subse- 
quently wrote, ^^I think those days at Enosburgh were 
almost the brightest of my life spiritually, and I have 
longed many times for the return of that enjoyment.'* 

His health having become somewhat impaired he now 
spent an interval of some months at home, during which 
he was employed, by vote of the town, to prepare a 
history of Brookfield, the manuscript of which, after 
completion, was deposited in the office of the town clerk, 
and was afterwards revised by himself for Hemenway' s 
Gazetteer, of Vermont. This was the first literary work of 
his life designed for publication, which he distinctly 
understood to be implied by the vote of the town, and the 
best labor of one season was devoted to it. It required 
the painstaking search of imperfect records, and the 
gathering and sifting of tradition from various and often 
obscure sources. It is but small commendation to say 



Rev. E. P. Wild, D.D. £3 

that thus has been preserved a faithful record of local events 
and of family history of his native town, much of which 
otherwise would now have passed beyond reach. Nearly 
twenty years afterwards this history almost entire, over 
another signature, appeared in print, and, when his atten- 
tion was called to it, it is needless to say that his pride was 
deeply w^ounded and his sensibilities were not a little piqued 
by this apparent breach of faith on the part of the town. 

During the progress and after the completion of this 
work he was also engaged, as far as his health would al- 
low, in studies, somewhat miscellaneous, but preparatory 
to his chosen profession. In the winter and spring of 
1862-3 he taught the village school in Pittsfield, and in 
May returned home, ' ' so sick and weak, ' ' to use his own 
language, ^' I didn't know as I would live a month." A 
period followed of great depression and intense inward 
struggle with reference to the future. '^ It seems," he 
afterwards said, ''as if Providence was driving me away 
entirely from my cherished hopes." Under the stress of 
ill-health and yielding to the solicitude of friends, for a 
time he wavered in his purpose and was persuaded to enter 
his name with the local physician as a student of medicine. 
This, however, was by no means satisfactory, and under a 
gradual improvement of physical condition, he soon re- 
sumed his original plan. His own satisfaction in this de- 
cision and final settlement of the question found character- 
istic expression in the words, ' ' It seems sometimes as if 
Providence was determined to make something of me ; I 
have tried to settle this matter solemnly and prayerfully as 
between God and myself alone, and I think Providence 
has brought me right at last." 



14 A Comine77iorative Sketch, 

His plans having matured he left home on the 19th of 
October to enter the middle class in the Theological Semi- 
nary at Bangor, Me. Taking the night boat the follow- 
ing evening from Boston and having a serious experience 
of sea-sickness on the passage, it is little wonder that, 
upon his arrival at Bangor on the 21st., an utter stranger, 
he should record emphatically his feeling of embarassment 
and loneliness. Yet he met a cordial reception and his 
first impressions of the situation were favorable. He en- 
tered at once upon the studies of the class, began to form 
congenial acquaintances, became the teacher of a class of 
young ladies in the Sunday-school of the First Parish, and 
generally found his views of life broadening, his purpose 
strengthening, his courage and enthusiasm increasing and 
his faith and consecration deepening. The themes of 
study and the atmosphere of his surroundings proved alike 
congenial and quickening. There appears at this time a 
marked illustration of a certain characteristic of his nature 
in the most intimate friendship speedily formed with one 
of his class-mates, which was not only mutually helpful 
during their seminary course, but was not forgotten in the 
wide separation of after life. He was always choice in his 
friendships by a certain instinctive and natural selection. 
" Too exclusive " he sometimes feared himself to be. ^^ I 
am always wanting some one friend," he was accustomed 
to say, ' ' and when he is found the rest are almost nothing 
to me." In this case there seemed an unexplained but 
reciprocal attraction, which found in each a worthy object, 
which, at least to this one of the parties, was the source of 
great stimulus in the aims of life. They were close com- 
panions during those two years of study, and as nearly in- 



Rev. E. P. Wild, D.D. 15 

separable as two seminary students could well be. In 
their walks about the city, in their recreations and excur- 
sions, as well as studies, very seldom did either of them 
have any other companion. And the survivor. Rev. 
Henry O. Thayer, of Limington, Me., after nearly thirty 
years in the labors of the ministry, now writes of the de- 
ceased : " That friendship I prized and it is still cher- 
ished. The manly tenderness of his nature, his self-poise 
— always calm, gentle, unruffled — his thorough goodness, 
his sincere devotion to his life-work, his walking closely 
with God . . . remain with me valued treasures of mem- 
ory." 

In February, 1864, his first sermon was preached at Ken- 
duskeag, a suburb of Bangor, where the students of the 
seminary frequently ministered, and where he acted as a 
Sabbath supply for some weeks after. Within the next 
few months he also preached at Essex street, Bangor, at 
Orono, Holden, Rockport and Camden. It was the be- 
ginning of '* the proof of his armor ' ' for pulpit work, and 
it is interesting to note the various expressions of his feel- 
ings in his own words : '^ It seems like new business to 
me, and I fear I do not realize the responsibility as I ought 
to" '* It makes me feel small to preach." ^^ To think 
of my being a minister, of my urging to love the Saviour ! ' ' 
" I fear I am not humble enough." '' What if one soul 
should be led wrong and be finally lost by reason of some 
act or omission of mine ? " In his appearance in the 
pulpit from the first he manifested little of his real inward 
shrinking, but was uniformly self-possessed and apparently 
suffered little from embarassment. His earnestness and 
the simplicity, directness and force of his utterance rarely 



l6 A Cojjuneijtorative Sketch. 

failed to command attention, and in his personal bearing 
he became a special favorite with the people with whom 
he was thus temporarily brought in contact. 

In the latter part of May a party of six students, includ- 
ing himself, spent a vacation of ten days together on a 
camping expedition at Brigadier Island, down the Penob- 
scot River, near Scarsport and Stocktown. They found 
the out-of-door freedom, the sea air and the change of 
scenery and environment, with visits to Fort Knox and 
other places of local celebrity, highly beneficial and all re- 
turned to study with new vigor. The following stanzas 
dated "Bangor, June, 1864," illustrate his frequent 
method of keeping in memory an unusual or pleasant ex- 
perience, and perhaps will agreeably recall those vacation 
days to the minds of the survivors of the party : 

** Where the mountain-tossed flood of our beautiful river 
Is lost in the broad rolling swell of the sea — 
WTiere the leaves of the trees with their musical quiver 
Salute the soft breath of the ocean so free — 
\Miere the sunny Jime days with the flowers are plapng 
And making all nature in lovliness smile — 
Where the merry south wind o'er the forests is straying, 
There's a sea-begirt gem, christened Brigadier Isle. 

*' There's a lovely retreat on that wonderful island, 
Embowered in the green birchen fringe of the shore, 
Lying low in the shade of the dark, jutting highland 
That, sentinel like, guards the harbor before ; 
This low, sandy nook, with its charming location, 
From the bustle of business the sweetest exile — 
Is for poor tired students in summer vacation 
The gem of attraction on Brigadier Isle. 



Rev. E. P. Wild, D.D. 17 

" The trees will grow old, nor awaken emotion, 
When the song of the zephyrs grows mournful and low — 
And the tide, the tireless pulse of the ocean, 
Still measure the days and the years as they go. 
But they'll not be forgotten 'mid life's sterner duties — 
When springtime makes nature in verdure to smile — 
In the hearts of the six who encamped 'mid it beauties 
Will linger fond memories of Brigadier Isle." 



On the 23rd of June there came to him simultaneously 
the intelligence of the death of one of his dear Brookfield 
friends, killed in the army, and the notice of his appoint- 
ment as tutor in his Alma Mater. The shock of the one 
was softened by the surprise of the other, yet the former 
so overshadowed the latter as to make necessary a post- 
ponement of his decision regarding it. In his conflict 
and confusion of mind at that time he wrote, ' ' I have 
caught myself wishing several times that I was back in the 
cradle — no care, no trials, no responsibility, no anxiety." 
' ' Man does need something to lean on, and I can hardly 
imagine how one can live without a Saviour to support 
him." ^^ Perhaps these trials and anxieties were designed 
to draw me nearer to Him by showing me my own weak- 
ness, utter powerlessness, without Him. I'll take it so, 
and rely more on Him in the future." 

Not only was the offer of the tutorship a surprise to him, 
but the position itself presented some special attraction, 
and at first he was strongly inclined to accept it, being en- 
couraged in that direction by the advice of friends. The 
matter, however, was not finally settled until August, after 
his return home for the summer's vacation. Then, *^ as a 



1 8 A Commemorative Sketch. 

matter of duty, viewing the two situations in the light of 
opportunities for doing good," and feeling that he ought 
not to lose any more time or shorten his seminary course, 
he decided to decline the position. " I will try to fill the 
the place, and only the place, my Master would have me 
fill," he said. And having thus decided he was gratified 
that his class-mate, Williams, promptly received and ac- 
cepted the appointment. 

On the 1 2 th of July, with others of his class, he received 
the usual three years' approbation to preach from the 
Penobscot Association, and shortly after went home for 
the summer vacation. Another question now confronted 
him, that of service in the army for a time in response to 
an urgent call from the United States Christian Com- 
mission. He decided to go with three of his seminary 
associates, and left home August 30th, via. Boston, New 
York, Philadelphia and Baltimore to Fortress Monroe, 
and thence to the headquarters of the commission at City 
Point. He w^as first assigned work in the colored hospital, 
and afterwards sent to the front to care for the wounded. 
These new and often thrilling experiences wrought in- 
tensely upon his mind and elicited his sympathetic activity 
to the utmost. Exposure brought on the ague and fever, 
and after six weeks' service he started again for home. 
On the way, at Boston, on Sunday, the i6th of October, 
he was too ill to leave his room, and arriving at home was 
seriously ill for some time. Recovering sufficiently he 
preached two Sabbaths upon invitation, at Royalton, and 
at this time wrote, ^^the work of the ministry becomes 
more and more my delight. ' ' Then, visiting Greensboro, 
he engaged there to teach the village school for the winter. 



Rev. E. P. Wild, D.D. 19 

boarding in the family of his brother. This was a winter 
of hard work, with about fifty pupils, a large proportion of 
whom were quite advanced and mature, besides six in 
music. His special burden, however, was for the spiritual 
interest of those under his influence. The thought of 
possible unfaithfulness spurred him to unceasing effort. 
^^ What in this world," he was accustomed to say, ^^can 
be more painful than to have to stare neglected duty in 
the face ? ' ' The joyful fruit of his personal effort was the 
quickening of religious interest in the community, and the, 
awakening and turning of several of his immediate pupils 
to a religious life. It was during this winter also, that, 
upon meeting a returned missionary, the question of per- 
sonal duty with reference to the foreign field came up for 
final settlement. It was a question not unconsidered before, 
but held in abeyance hitherto, and now decided clearly in 
the negative, on account of physical unfitness. 

Closing his term of school he returned to Bangor in 
March, 1865. Very soon, in view of the near completion 
of his studies, he received overtures for settlement from 
the churches both at Randolph and Craftsbury. At first 
his inclination was towards the former place, with some- 
thing of an aversion to the latter. Returning, however, 
in May, to look the ground over, circumstances provi- 
dentially determined him in favor of Craftsbury, which 
call he at length accepted. He afterwards wrote, " Provi- 
dence did not leave me in doubt, and if ever I felt sure that 
God smiled upon my efforts to enter the ministry it was 
when He decided me in favor of the Craftsbury call." 
The absence of ambitious self-seeking is conspicuously 
manifest in his desire and readiness to take up at once his 



20 A Commemorative Sketch. 

chosen work wherever the opportunity offered. ^^ Ambi- 
tion shall not hinder me " — '' pride shall not stand in the 
way'* — were the words of his heroically Christian resolve. 
His loyalty also to his native state is to be noted, in that 
his first, as well as subsequent fields of labor, notwith- 
standing the probability of wider fields elsewhere, was 
among the churches of Vermont. 

Preparations were now made for his marriage and settle- 
ment after he should complete the seminary course. His 
graduation took place in July, in a class of twenty, among 
whom he was " called the first writer," and whose diverg- 
ing lines of service from that time separated them from 
further special intimacy. August 2nd was the day of his 
marriage, at Braintree, to Miss Ruth S., daughter of Dea- 
con John S., and grand-daughter of the late Rev. Ammi 
Nichols of that town, to whom he had early been engaged. 
His reminiscences at this time were exceedingly tender, 
his consecration thorough, and his hopes enthusiastic. 
There was no delay in entering upon his work. On the 
nth day of October, 1865, he was ordained and installed 
pastor of the Congregational Church in Craftsbury. The 
sermon on the occasion was preached by the father of the 
candidate, the venerable grandfather of his wife offered 
the ordaining prayer, and his only brother, settled the 
previous year at Greensboro, gave the right hand of fellow- 
ship. It was to him a solemn and a joyous day — ^^ the 
beginning of the realization of all my hopes, the consum- 
mation of my years of study. ' ' 

Scarcely had he begun his pastoral work when, early in 
December following, there came the shock of the sudden 
death of his mother, which event was more important than 



Rev, E. F. Wild, D.D. 21 

perhaps to others it might appear, in its influence upou 
those first years of his ministry. He seemed to carry the 
thought of her presence and prayers with him constantly, 
though never alluding to it except in the presence of most 
intimate friends. There was the agonizing, bitter struggle 
and final submission of the sensitive heart which lifted 
him to new courage and faith, and prepared him, all un- 
consciously, for his immediate work, as well as for the 
deeper waters of subsequent trials. The labors and fruits 
of this first pastorate of nine years at Craftsbury, are but 
partially understood by the record of the steady increase 
of the congregation and Sunday-school from the beginning, 
the thorough repair of the house of worship, two or three 
periods of revival enjoyed without the use of extra means, 
at least sixty infant baptisms and the increase by about 
forty of the resident membership of the church. The first 
fruits appeared in several hopeful conversions and addi- 
tions to the church almost immediately after his settlement, 
and the following year was marked by a revival ^^ in which 
more than thirty persons were hopefully converted," add- 
ing greatly to the strength of the church. Again in 1869 
there was a special work of grace, '^ still and powerful," 
and another in 18 70-' 71, commencing in a single district 
of the parish, by which the church received valuable ad- 
ditions of heads of families, and from which followed the 
erection of several family altars. In these abundant and 
untiring labors, in which, from his peculiar temperament his 
personal sympathies were so strongly enlisted, he uncon- 
sciously overtaxed himself, and to that extent in the summer 
of 1869 he was in danger of an utter collapse both of body 
and mind. Immediate and entire absence and rest became 



2 2 A Conmiemo7'ative Sketch, 

imperative. It was a period of intense anxiety to his 
friends, and of the most utter abandonment and mental 
gloom to himself. Some of the expressions of his pen at 
this time — for he revealed himself more fully in writing 
than in words, often taking a poetic form — are pathetic 
beyond description. In September, in the quiet of a 
chamber at his father's, in Fairfield, whither he was taken 
for change and rest, he wrote, '' for some weeks there has 
been seemingly something in the way so that I can! t think 
as clearly or as strongly as I want to. It is because I am 
not well.'' " O, my nerves ! my poor, frail body ! When 
shall I be better able to control it, or be rid of it entirely?" 
" If God wants ipy service further in his cause. He'll make 
me able to work, and if not it is just as well. I don't 
want to die unless He thinks it best, yet there is nothing 
dreadful to me in the idea ; indeed, I am afraid I some- 
times more than half long for it. I don't want to be a 
burden to everybody, least of all to my dearest friends." 
In such utterances, at intervals, is revealed his condition at 
this time — the physical and nervous exhaustion and the 
resulting mental unsteadiness and struggle, only relieved 
by the strong undercurrent of faith still clinging to its 
unseen anchorage. The following extracts, also from lines 
written at intervals in his private journal during this 
period, it seems fitting here to introduce, as illustrative 
alike of the experience through which he was then passing, 
and of certain characteristic traits incidentally exhibited: — 

" I thought I loved Thee, Father, loved thee well ; 
And strove myself a loving child to prove — 
But Oh ! these bitter conflicts who can tell ? 
These fierce heart struggles — ^how they try my love ! 



Rev. E. P. Wild, D.D. 23 

" Dear Father, may I thus complain to Thee — 
Thus whisper all my sorrow in Thine ear ? 
Wilt Thou in tender pity smile on me, 
Thy presence grant, and my petitions hear ? 

" Is it too much to ask, my King, my Lord ? 
My simple, weak complainings canst Thou bear ? 
May I not come and plead thy promised word ? 
Is it presuming on thy loving care ? 

" I know Thou hast far louder calls to hear, 
The w^ants of worlds and angels to supply — 
But Thou art God^ and Thou art ever near 
When e'en the feeblest of thy children cry. 

" Come, then, and let me feel Thee near my heart. 
While in Thine ear I pour my sad complaint — 
Great comforter of all Thine own Thou art — 
Keep not away, let not my spirit faint. 

" Why is it, Father — Oh ! Why must it be 
That in my work I meet such small success ? 
Why must this sudden darkness fall on me 
And on my hopes and plans of usefulness ? 

" Dear Father, I had hoped that I was Thine, 
And many rules of service had laid down ; 
I hoped that many souls through me would shine, 
And deck, like rarest gems, the Saviour's crown. 

" I thought my sinful passions were subdued. 
And that my old ambition, too, was slain ; 
My present and my future I had viewed 
And thought the way to work for Christ was plain. 

" I tried to do that work — Thou knowest how well — 
I sought to go where Thou would' st have me go — 
The story of the cross I tried to tell. 
And in the fallow ground the seed to sow. 



24 A Comme7norative Sketch, 

" Thou knowest it all, for Thou hast been my guide, 
And I have ever found Thy service sweet — 
Thou knov^est how, though unworthy, I have tried 
To lay myself, my all, at Jesus' feet. 

" But, O, my Father, there has come a change, 
A thick dark cloud has covered all my sky — 
My path is darkened and the way seems strange, 
Hedged in with thorns which all my strength defy. 

" I cannot see Thee, faith has grown so weak — 
I cannot lean upon Thy faithful breast — 
I cannot find Thee, cannot hear Thee speak 
Those blessed words of comfort and of rest. 

" Oh ! Father, am I not Thy child indeed ? 
Perhaps I have not doubted it enough — 
Is it for this that Thou dost make me bleed. 
Dost make my way so strait, and steep, and rough? 

" Perhaps I've been too confident before. 
Perhaps have boasted of my power with Thee ; 
Have been so full of pride, that, more and more 
A selfish worlding I have grown to be. 

" O, Father, is it so ? I cannot bear 
To think that I should ever fall so low, 
With all Thy grace, and all thy loving care 
Thrown round me still ; O, Father, is it so ? 

" Perhaps my own vile heart I do not know ; 
Perhaps in toiling other souls to win, 
I've overlooked myself, and doing so 
Have failed to see the damning guilt within. 

" Is this my fault, O, Father, this my crime ? 
Is it for this that Thou dost chasten me ? 
Is it for this that Thou dost give me time 
For much repentance and return to Thee ? 



Rev. E. F. Wild, D.D, 25 

" If so, I would not doubt Thy wisdom still, 
But could I bear a deeper, closer view ? 
Have I not seen how sin my heart dothyf//, 
And how 'tis mixed with all I think and do ? 

" I know 'tis true, O, Father, I am sure 
That there can be no grace, no love, but Thine, 
Which can in such corruption work a cure, 
And fit for heaven so vile a heart as mine. 

" I've tried to rest on this, and found relief 
AMien by the waves of doubt and conflict tossed — 
Not self, but Chi'ist, of thousands is the chief — 
'Tis grace from first to last, or I am lost. 

" But yet, my Father, I'm not satisfied — 
'Tis hard to give my cherished prospects up. 
In early manhood to be laid aside. 
And drink misfortune's baneful, bitter cup. 

" 'Tis hard for soldiers on the field of strife. 
Though tired and worn, to lay the harness down — 
'Tis hard for Christians to yield up their life 
For anything this side the final crown. 

" O, Father, Father, canst Thou bear with me ? 
These sad complainings fill my anxious breast, 
My spirit chafes within me to be fi-ee, 
I fain would either be at work or rest!'^ 



" But now, complainings cease, and doubts begone — 
There's light and hope and comfort fi-om above — 
The darkest hour but ushers in the dawn. 
Nor is it hard to trust a Father's love, 

" He chastens whom he loves — then welcome pain, 
Welcome affliction, trial, sickness, death — 
All these in Jesus' name I'll count my gain. 
And praise His Grace with every passing breath. 



26 A Commemorative Sketch, 

" What though I suffer ? If it be his will 
By furnace heat to make jewel bright, 
I'll trust his love, and say while suffering still, 
* Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ? ' 

" It may be that my pilgrimage below 
Is nearer done than I have ever thought — 
So hard it is our present state to know. 
So hard to recognize the joys we've sought. 

" Perhaps I've passed the gloomy vale of death, 
And soon shall climb the mountains of delight — 
Perhaps with beating heart and bated breath 
I soon shall see the longed-for heavenly sight. 

" O, joy to come ! Yet while there's work to do 
I would not restless and impatient be — 
Father, forgive my wanderings — search me through- 
Wash out my sin, and draw me close to Thee. 

" The way seems plainer now — there's light above — 
For serving Thee life has a thousand charms — 
On every side are tokens of thy love. 
And underneath the everlasting arms. 

" While I have thus so many gifts divine 
Why should I be with doubts and fears oppressed ? 
All, all I am shall be forever Thine — 
Thou'lt not forsake or leave me — ^here I rest." 



Some briefer lines, also, in different measure, written 
after this period of struggle, are further descriptive : — 

" A tempest was raging with demon-like glee. 
And a vessel was tossing half wrecked on the sea, 
E'en the hearts of the sailors were stricken with fear 
For the waves were like mountains and breakers were near ; 



Rev. E. P. Wild, D,D. 27 

The pilot's child, as she quietly played, 
Was asked if the storm did not make her afraid ; 
* O, no ; ' was the answer, * What fear should I feel ? 
I trust in my father ; he stands at the wheel.' 

■ So the Christian's trust in God's loving care 
Makes his trials and pains seem easy to bear ; 
Our toils and our sorrows, our struggles and fears 
Mark the days and the moments with sighs and with tears, 
But amidst all the darkness and gloom of the strife, 
The thought of God's love is the star of our life ; 
Though dangers may threaten and troubles o'erwhelm, 
Our Father in Heaven is still at the helm." 



The period covered by the foregoing extended through 
several months, until the following April, and the reader 
cannot fail to discover the balancing of inward feeling and 
the marked transition from the depths almost of despair to 
the height, not of ecstatic vision, but of a triumphant, rest- 
ful faith. 

His condition at length having sufficiently improved, he 
returned to his family and resumed his work. But he had 
gained an important victory, and endeavored always after 
to profit and guard himself by the warning of this experi- 
ence. In allusion to it he was accustomed to say with a 
peculiar emphasis, " It will never occur again." 

In 1872 he was chosen to represent the town of Crafts- 
bury in the State Legislature, where he was assigned for 
service to the Committee on Education. He was not for- 
ward, nor was he identified with any particular legislative 
measure, except a bill which he introduced and carried 
through the House, the object of which was to simplify the 



28 A Commemorative Sketch, 

school census, a measure of which he had seen the need in 
his service as town superintendent. He was punctual and 
faithful in his duties and won the universal esteem of his 
associates. One who served with him upon the same com- 
mittee writes, ^* he was always genial in his work, as well 
as faithful and strong. In the House he did not often 
speak and was never given to special schemes or action for 
notoriety. Most of his work related to that of his com- 
mittee, but occasionally he spoke on other questions, and 
on all subjects with such soundness and common sense as 
to give him the full confidence of his fellow members. 

Uniformly present at the committee meetings, he was ac- 
tive in support of their measures which he believed for the 
interest of education in Vermont. If the Committee had 
occasionally to meet some anti-progressive prejudice he 
was quick to come to their support." Another of his as- 
sociates upon the committee says, '^ he was a genial, earnest, 
talented man, of a poetical turn of thought, with clear-cut 
ideas .... not agressive, but conservative and candid. 
He had a quiet yet effective way of stating his ideas, and 
though firm was not offensive. His diction was pure and 
classical. He made his points and won the attentive con- 
sideration of his listeners. He readily won friends, and 
then they were life long friends. To be associated with 
him was an honor, and I class among the choicest memo- 
ries of that session my acquaintance with him. ' ' 

These weeks of change in associations and the direction 
of labor were of benefit to him in many ways, and he re- 
turned re-invigorated to his pastoral duties. There were 
already intimations that Providence might direct him to 
some other field, but not sufficient as yet to form any basis 



Rev. E. P. Wild, D.D, 29 

of action, and he continued his labors uninterruptedly un- 
til the summer of 1874. 

It was at Craftsbury that his three oldest children were 
born, and there also that his oldest child and only 
daughter, Helen W., a beautiful and winning child, died 
at the age of seven years. The strength of his affection 
and his faith found expression in the following, entitled 
''Relics,'' written in view of this bereavement: 

" Shut the door closely, let no passer-by 
C*ur task o'erlook; 'Tis only you and I 
Who care with reverent hands to lay aside 
These simple relics of the child that died. 

" Within this casket lay them one by one, 
Nor let no weeping linger when 'tis done. 
Such tears might breed repining — 'tis not ours 
To grudge the Lord the gathering of His flowers. 

" They are all here — the toys that she loved best ; 
The little pillow that her soft cheek pressed. 
Her picture-books, defaced with frequent touch 
Of tiny hands that prized them overmuch. 

*' A tattered leaf, with verses of a hymn ! 
Nay, do thou fold it, for my sight grows dim ! 
It seems but now she spelled it at my knee, 
* Nearer to God, ' and asked how that could be. 

" I see again the look that sought the skies, 
The earnest wonder in the pure blue eyes, 
As the rapt ear my meaning faintly caught. 
Though scarcely comprehending all I taught. 

" She hath these mysteries solved in soaring there. 
And we, too, have drawn nearer than we were. 
Strengthened by faith that heeds nor let nor stay 
Since those child footsteps trod the narrow way." 



30 A Commemorative Sketch. 

In the summer of 1874, having received a call from the 
church in Newport, and feeling that the time had come for 
a change in his field of labor, he was dismissed from the 
church in Craftsbury at his own request, Oct. 29th., in or- 
der to accept the same. Removing to Newport, he began 
labor there immediately, and was installed pastor, Jan. 4, 
1875, his brother, then at Peacham, preaching the sermon. 
A revival followed the beginning of his labors which 
changed the moral tone of the whole commxunity. A daily 
prayer meeting was established in April which was sustained 
nearly two years. A Young Men's Christian Association 
was organized, including largely the business men of the 
place, and whose influence was subsequently extended by 
its efficient workers to surrounding towns ; and the church 
was strengthened by large additions. Two other seasons of 
revival w^ere also enjoyed during his ministry here of thir- 
teen years ; the church more than doubled its resident mem- 
bership, increased its benevolence more than fourfold, 
once enlarged its house of worship and built a chapel, and 
at length had nearly consummated plans for the erection 
of its present new edifice. The unusual fact is noticeable 
that of the nearly one hundred and fifty members added to 
the church during this pastorate the number upon confes- 
sion of faith and by letter was about the same ; w^hile at the 
May communion following his dismission, the largest num- 
ber ever uniting upon confession at any one time in the 
history of the church was received. During a large portion 
of this time he also did extra work in the supply of the 
neighboring church in Derby, and became very influen- 
tial in the relations of fellow^ship with the other churches of 
the county. In 1881 the church celebrated its semi-cen- 



Rev. E. F. Wild, D.D, 31 

*tennial anniversary almost simultaneously with the same 
event in the history of the church at West Randolph, near 
his early home, and at the latter celebration the Newport 
pastor was a specially invited guest. A portion of his brief 
address on that occasion illustrates well his style both of 
thought and utterance. Giving his exhortation a two-fold 
complementary form, he said, ' ' First, work as though every- 
thing depended on yourselves. The church of Christ is ex- 
tended by human agencies, and its work should always be 
aggressive. Many churches have died from forgetfulness 
of this. Like other Christians you have plenty of work 
right before you : ministering to each other, maintaining 
the ordinances, and reaching out after those who have no 
interest in the Saviour. Your recollections of the past call 
upon you to do this, your hopes for the future repeat the 
call in louder tones. 

^^ Second, Trust as though everything depended on God. 
As a church, as individuals, the responsibility is yours. 
You will live or die according to your faithfulness or 
neglect. But as a whole God will certainly care for 
His Cause in the world. The church universal is safe 
because it is His. I once spent a night on Mansfield 
Mountain. During the night a storm arose. The wind 
blew with a rush and roar, such as is known only in 
the highest places. The little house which sheltered us, 
though partly built into the mountain and strengthened by 
iron rods and bars, seemed to reel in the tempest and 
threatened to plunge down the abyss. But it was not in- 
jured. Morning came and the storm had ceased. The 
clouds had passed away, the sun arose calm and bright and 
the view from the mountain's summit was as grand as ever. 



32 A Com7nei7iorative Sketch. 

Away in the East appeared the White Mountains, with the* 
shading of hills and valleys in the foreground. Lake Cham- 
plain lay at our feet on the West, and the Adirondacks rose 
in their majesty beyond. While far to the North the spires 
of Montreal glistened in the morning light. Such, I 
thought, are the apparent danger and the real safety of 
God's Church. Storms arise, stirred up by the prince of 
the power of the air. Clouds of trouble often gather in its 
sky. Winds of infidelity rage and roar around it. Its 
enemies predict its destruction and its more fearful friends 
sometimes lose heart. But it can never be moved. It has 
a firmer foundation than old Mansfield's rocks. It is 
stayed by stronger bolts and rods than iron ones. God is 
its builder and its everlasting strength. And to those who 
live within it the outlook is glorious. The kingdoms of 
the earth lie beneath their feet, and in the distance gleam 
the towers of the heavenly'city itself. ' ' 

In 1882 his health became again seriously impaired by 
continuous labor. In the autumn of that year a plan was 
matured for spending the winter with his family in Cali- 
fornia. The day of departure had been fixed and all ar- 
rangements made for the winter. But the serious illness 
of his second son, Azel A., which resulted in his death in 
January following, providentially prevented the carrying 
out of this plan, though for several weeks the hopes of it 
was not entirely abandoned. To this child the father was 
most tenderly attached, and his death, at the age of eleven 
years, with all its attendant circumstances, was another of 
those severe experiences which wrought the inner nature 
with intensest anguish. "Tome," he said, *^ it was an 
experience of terrific force, tearing up to their very 



Rev. E. F, Wild, D,D. 33 

foundation all the elements of my character. I have 
not been, I can never be, the same man I was before." 
Yet it was the means of advancing steps in his own 
spiritual life, and, as he was himself accustomed to say, 
was ''one of those 'all things' which 'work together 
for good. ' ' ' He was happy in the belief that both the 
children whom he had lost had become consciously the 
children of God. 

In June, 1883, the State Convention met for the first time 
at Newport, and the second time in its history within the 
limits of Orleans County. It was therefore an event of 
some importance, not only to this church and pastor, but 
to the surrounding churches. The foresight and tact, 
under the pastor's leading, displayed in the arrangements 
for the meeting amply justified this selection of plan, and 
he was chosen as the preacher of the Convention for its 
next meeting at St. Albans, which service he duly per- 
formed, preaching from the text Mark IV, 26-29. From 
1874 to I887, the whole period of his residence in New- 
port, he was the reporter of the Convention for the Or- 
leans Conference and the painstaking accuracy and clear- 
ness which always characterized his official work rendered 
his annual reports especially valuable. 

In the Spring of 1886 the plan was renewed for the re- 
cruiting of his health by a three months trip to California. 
He was much benefited by the change. Preaching with 
acceptance at Lugonia and other places, the question of 
remaining permanently was seriously presented. The 
New England attachments, however, were too strong, and 
he returned in May to continue his work in Newport until 
the Summer of 1887. Then after an illness from which 



34 ^ Commemorative Sketch. 

his recovery was not complete, a change seemed to be- 
come imperative, and he was accordingly dismissed at his 
own request, Sept. 7 th. 

Unwilling still to be laid aside from the work he loved, 
and encouraged by medical advice to hope for ultimate re- 
covery, he accepted a unanimous call to the church in 
Manchester, with some reservations on account of health, 
and began labor there in October. He was installed Jan. 
31, 1888; his brother, then of Charlotte, again being the 
preacher. Before the Council, his paper entitled '' Credo''^ 
included in the following pages, was presented as the sum- 
mary of his theological belief. His labors here were brief. 
Yet, in influence, and visible results, and the growing at- 
tachment of a loving people, the fitting culmination of a 
life of devoted service. To escape the severity of the 
Northern climate he spent his last two winters at the South. 
Upon his return from Florida, in May, 1890, he found him- 
self too weak at once to resume pulpit labor, though for 
some months he did not relinquish the hope of preaching 
again. As late as September, with reference to a plan for 
visiting Colorado for the coming winter, his courage and 
hopefulness appeared in writing to a friend, " the Lord as 
yet shows us nothing to do only to stay right here, so we 
stay day after day, and do and sufl'er the same things over 
and over again. But all the clouds have silver linings and 
I am confident that the sun of Providence will yet shine 
for us in beauty and glory." A week later this was his 
language. ^^ We see no change in our prospects yet, but 
are still waiting with eyes and ears wide open of course, 
and willing, I think, to respond to anything." His own 
hope, even of partial recovery, however^ was not to be 



Rev. E. P. Wild, D,D. 35 

realized. Early in October a change for the worse was 
evident in his condition, and on the morning of the twen- 
tieth, after some days of excessive suffering and rapidly 
failing strength, he passed quietly away to that glorious 
Beyond— his incontestable and blessed inheritance. He 
died at the age of fifty-one years, four months and sixteen 
days. His death, crowning a life of unquestioned useful- 
ness, was so completely the fulfilment of his own wish, re- 
corded more than twenty-five years before, that it seems 
appropriate here to reproduce his very words : ^ ^ I love 
to sit at sunset and watch the bright glow of day fade into 
the soft and mellow twilight and this in turn into the deep 
gloom of night. The clouds, darkening and frowning as 
the sun nears the horizon, as if in grief at his approaching 
withdrawal from them, all at once, as the moment of de- 
parture comes, catch the glow from his radiant face, and 
in mild submission smiles back his parting good-night, 
casting down to earth the pale reflection of his dying 
splendor as if in tender remembrance of his former love. 
And how beautifully similar is this to the Christian's life 
and death ! If he gathers and treasures up tenderness, 
purity and love all through his life, then his dying moments 
will be brilliant and peaceful, casting back a halo of holy 
influence in spite of the clouds of sin and evil that hover 
about and would fain mingle sorrow in the scene — nay, 
making those very clouds the means of reflecting back to 
those left behind the hallowed and hallowing influence of 
a holy life and peaceful death. Such is the faithful Chris- 
tian's life, and such his death, and I wish such a life and 
death might be mine. ' ' 

Funeral services were held on the day following his 



^6 A Commemorative Sketch 

death, in the Church at Manchester, with a discourse by 
the Rev. S. L. Bates, a friend and former townsman, 
and fitting tributes of affection and respect from Rev. Drs. 
Wickham and Phillips and Rev. P. S. Pratt. On the fol- 
lowing day his remains were taken to Newport, where he 
had labored longest in the ministry, for burial in his own 
chosen place beside his two children. Appropriate ser- 
vices were also there conducted by Rev. W. C. Somerville, 
a former pastor and personal friend, assisted by the Rev. 
Geo. H. Dunlap, of Derby Line. 

Mr. Wild was a son of Vermont, educated in Vermont, 
and the twenty-five years of his ministry were given wholly 
to the churches of his native state. His highest ambition 
was to be a *^good minister" of Jesus Christ. In his 
home and his parish, and in the widening circle of his 
ecclesiastical relations and acquaintances, as well as inci- 
dentally in more secular spheres, he made " full proof" of 
his ministry. A life long acquaintance says of him, '*■ He 
was saintly in life, refined in taste, clear in thought, forci- 
ble as a preacher, artistic in his poetic sense, and one for 
whom the church and the world of letters mourns the loss." 

He was one of the directors of the Vermont Bible Soci- 
ety from 1870 until his death. In 187 1 he was the 
Alumni poet at the commencement of Middlebury College, 
and received again that appointment in 1889, but was un- 
able to fulfil it. In 1877 he was a member of the third 
National Triennial Council at Detroit, and in 1886 his 
Alma Mater conferred upon him the honorary degree of 
D.D. In May, 1888 he was chosen as a member of the 
Board of Trustees of Burr and Burton Seminary at Man- 
chester, He was at times a sprightly and valued corres- 



Rev, E. P. Wild, D.D, 37 

pondent of the local press, and besides some poems of 
local historic interest, he published also, by request, 
*' A Fast Day Sermon," preached at Craftsbury, April 18, 
1868, ''' A Sermon before the Orleans County Bible Soci- 
ety," at Irasburgh, Oct. 4, 1870, and '^ A sermon upon the 
death of Mrs. Laura Hinman Bingham," preached at 
Derby, Aug. 19, 1877. In his later ministry he was not 
infrequently called to preach on special occasions at in- 
stallations, dedications and Academy Baccalaureates. 

It has been truthfully said that, *'No man ever suc- 
ceeded in taking care of his name after he is dead. If it 
live at all, it will in a few years be taken for just what it is 
worth." The subject of this sketch, serving faithfully God 
and his fellow men, has written his own biography and 
composed his own epitaph. 

A widow and two sons survived his death, the former, 
however, following him within six months after his own 
decease. 

^^ And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, 
Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from 
henceforth : Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from 
their labors : and their works do follow them.''^ 

A. W. Wild. 

Elizabethtown, N. Y., March, 1892. 



''Dr. Wild was an earnest preacher, his sermons being 
always carefully prepared with a purpose to reach the hearts 



38 A CoinniejJioraiive Sketch. 

as well as the understandings of his hearers. He was the 
very opposite of sensational, and despised show, yet he had 
a singular faculty of making every subject full of interest. 
He had a poetical nature that enabled him to clothe even 
dry subjects with an imagery that made them both attractive 
and impressive. He delighted in having everything or- 
derly and harmonious. He dearly loved music, flowers and 
everything beautiful in nature and art. Above all he was 
modest and retiring, and only the desire to serve God and 
benefit his fellow men constrained him to engage in public 
service, but this desire prompted him to perform faithfully 
every duty as long as life and strength would permit. 
Being of this disposition only his nearest and best friends 
could fully appreciate him. To them his almost perfect 
life was a constant inspiration. Yet his earnest Christian 
life and well developed character had a marked influence 
upon all with whom he came in contact. This, quite as 
much as his public utterances, gave him marked success in 
the ministry. He was the friend of every man and had 
the rare faculty of making his friendliness felt. He was 
fully, and often painfully conscious of his own imperfec- 
tions, and abounded in Christian charity towards the im- 
perfections of others. ' ' 



^^ When realizing, in his later illness, his own varying 
symptoms an dincreased feebleness, he resigned all into 
his Heavenly Father's hands, a holy peacefulness pervaded 
his always gentle features, which was there to the very 
end — a holy calm. Dr. Wild, though an unusually amiable 



Rev. E. P. Wild, D.D. 39 

and modest man, and never cynical or severe, was one 
whose views and principles were clearly defined, was ever 
true to his convictions of right, and did not falter in 
maintaining them. This won for him the respect of his 
ministerial brethren, while he never claimed nor aimed to 
be a leader among them. His clear and lucid statements 
could never be misunderstood, and w^ere much of a relief 
to bewildered and hesitating minds. His penmanship, so 
plain and perfect was every letter, was even an index to 
this mental quality, as all who are familiar with it will 
testify. 

The venerable Dr. Wickham said that if he were asked 
what he considered Dr. Wild's prominent trait, he should 
reply, ^ Love of the Lord Jesus Christ,' which was appar- 
ent in all his utterances. He wrote to a friend in afflic- 
tion, ' You have abundant consolation. How I love to 
look upon, as well as remember, after it is finished, a well- 
rounded Christian life. It is one of the choicest treasures 
this earth ever possesses. When it is ended there is loss 
here indeed, but our grief has abundant compensation. 
It is far from being the saddest thing that happens to us, 
when a ripe Christian friend goes home to heaven.' Is not 
this sentiment most emphatic to us in Dr. Wild's case? " 



His God hath taken to Himselj a soul — 
A soul well 7neet to walk His holy ways ; 
That knew of Christian toilings every phase, 
Whose 7ia?ne was writ upon the angeV s scroll. 
The pitcher at the well, the golden bo2ul 
Are shattered now ; and we, lost in the maze 
Of acts Divine, upon the fragments gaze. 
And wonder why they cannot be made whole. 



40 A Commemorative Sketch, 

^^ Let not your heart be troubled^'' but rejoice ! 
Thus whispers lovingly that gentle Voice, 
And though with sorrow torn, we cannot fail 
Our God to praise, that " Safe within the VaiV 
Rides now that barque, which, battered and storm-tossed, 
Yet freighted low with sheaves, has Life''s waste crossed. 

P. S. W. 



CREDO 



' / believed, therefore have I spoken,^'' 

Ps. ii6— X. 



CREDO. 

I believe in God. The evidence from nature and from 
reason satisfies me of His existence and the precious reality 
of personal communion with Him fills my belief with a joy 
which is itself the surest evidence of all. 

I believe in the attributes of God ; self-existence, eter- 
nity, omnipresence, immortality, omniscience, omnipo- 
tence, and love. My conception of His being is such 
that I cannot entertain it apart from these. 

I believe in the tri-unity of God ; the Father, Son, and 
Holy Spirit being one God, the same in substance, equal 
in power and glory. I find that the Scriptures teach this ; 
and I learn from history that this has always been the 
central working and organizing doctrine of the church. 
No religious system which has denied or ignored it has 
had life enough to do mankind much good. 

I accept the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments 
as the revealed word of God; written by men divinely 
inspired, containing all the truths necessary to be known 
for the salvation of souls from sin ; and presenting the 
only infallible rule of Christian doctrine and duty. 

I believe that God is the Creator, Preserver, and Dis- 
poser of all beings and worlds ; that since He is infinite 
and perfect His end of action is His own glory ; that this 
seeking of His glory secures the highest good of the uni- 



44 Credo. 

verse ; and that He attains that end in His treatment of 
every creature. 

I know that evil exists in the universe. It must have 
originated in the free agency of some intelligent being, 
and is propagated by both natural and special means. In 
this chief of evil beings I am content to recognize the 
Satan of the Bible. I believe therefore in a personal 
devil, who goes about among men like a roaring lion, 
seeking whom he may devour. And yet I believe that 
Satan is as completely under God's control as any other 
intelligent being, and that evil is as truly God's servant as 
any other force or agency. 

I believe that God not only permits, but also orders 
events as they take place ; He is a perfect moral governor, 
and not the smallest incident escapes His notice or lies 
outside of His one grand plan. Known to Him are all 
His works from the beginning. His will brings out the 
eternal truths of reason in acts as wisdom and love. 
Hence the counsel of His will must be the ground, not 
only of the sequence of events, but of His own fore- 
knowledge as well. 

Following this belief I accept with restful satisfaction the 
fact of divine providence. God has the right to rule. 
He is the sovereign in His ruling. His government has 
no limitation save in His own rational and moral per- 
fection. His government is administered according to an 
eternal and universal purpose. And this purpose regards 
every creature with perfect justice and infinite compassion. 
I am satisfied that all things without exception work 
together for good to those who love Him. 

I believe that God created man after His own image, in 



Credo. 45 

knowledge, righteousness, and holiness, with dominion 
over the inferior creatures ; and that He entered into a 
covenant of life with him, the condition of which was 
perfect obedience. That covenant was broken by Adam 
and Eve under temptation, to the ruin of their own moral 
purity and the destroying of their hopes. Through their 
apostasy sin and misery have come into the world, each 
of their descendants being born with a tendency to follow 
evil rather than good. So that all men unless renewed by 
the Holy Spirit are destitute of holiness and under the 
curse of the divine law. For I regard sin as voluntary, 
because it is the action of intelligent beings. Each moral 
agent is responsible for his own acts, and must answer to 
God for them. Therefore for every act of disobedience 
against God or want of conformity to His law, he who 
commits it incurs the full penalty which God has affixed 
to His law. And I find the Scriptures to teach that that 
penalty is death, spiritual death, eternal death, the final 
separation of the sinning soul from God. 

I believe in the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. I find 
it revealed that He, the Second Person of the Holy 
Trinity, took upon Him our nature and became man ; 
that He lived a perfect sinless human life for our example ; 
and that by His mediation and death on the cross He 
made an atonement for the sins of the world. My view 
of the atonement is that its necessity is threefold ; first to 
satisfy divine justice; second to vindicate the divine 
government in the eyes of the creatures ; third as a motive 
to melt men's hearts to repentance. The incarnation of 
Christ is an expression of God's great love for mankind. 
Its object is to draw all men upward, to open the way for 



46 Credo. 

saving those who will be saved, to remove all obstacles to 
men's restoration which exist iu the government and 
character of God. 

As to the actual salvation of men, I hold that those and 
only those are saved who accept the Lord Jesus Christ as 
He is offered to them in the Gospel. Faith like sin is 
voluntary, and each sinner must believe for himself. The 
benefits of the atonement are held out freely to all, and 
whosoever will may take them. But the tendency to 
wrong doing is so strong in the human heart, and the 
habit of sinning has become so fixed, that none will turn 
to Christ of their own accord. Thus there are other 
obstacles in the way of man's salvation — obstacles which 
exist in their own hearts and lives. These are removed 
by the power of the Holy Spirit, the Third Person of the 
Trinity, who tells the sinner about Christ, corrects his 
opinions, softens his disposition, renews his heart, and 
sanctifies his life. All who heartily accept the Gospel 
and are willing to be saved under its conditions are thus 
renewed and sanctified. 

I believe that this personal acceptance of Christ is the 
essential condition laid upon us ; and that all who are fi- 
nally saved will owe their salvation to the free grace of God 
through repentance and faith, and not to any works of 
righteousness which they have done. Yet I believe in the 
necessity of good works as a result and evidence of faith. 
The fruit of the Spirit must and will be borne by the re- 
newed soul. To work the work of God is to believe on 
the Christ whom he has sent, and to live a life consistent 
with that belief. Faith unites us to Christ and makes our 
character like His. A holy life will therefore accompany 



Credo. 47 

and follow a sincere profession of faith. Those and only 
those who conscientiously discharge their duties to God, 
their fellow men, and themselves, are entitled to hope in 
the divine mercy. And all who do thus hope and live are 
kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation. I 
believe in the life of faith, and in the believer's perpetual 
enjoyment of the Saviour's presence as a personal friend. 
I do not think this attainment exempts him from tempta- 
tion or insures him against sin ; but I am sure it is the 
privilege of every believer to be happy in Christ at all 
times, and to make his own path through the w^orld that 
of the just which shines more and more unto the perfect 
day. 

I believe in the church of Christ as an association of 
visible believers covenanting to act together in the service 
of the Lord, and in the stated use of the ordinances and 
worship of the Gospel. I regard it as the duty of all be- 
lievers to belong to the visible church, and to support it 
with their influence and possessions. The sacraments of 
the church are Baptism and the Lord's Supper ; the latter 
of which is to be administered to professed believers, and 
the former to believers and their infant children. 

I accept the teachings of the Scriptures and the com- 
monly received opinions of the saints with regard to the 
Christian Sabbath and its keeping, the observance of pub- 
lic and family worship, the instruction of children in re- 
ligious truth, and the hearty co-operation of all who know 
the Gospel in organized effort for the world's evangel- 
ization. 

I believe in the second coming of our Lord, and in the 
resurrection of all the dead. I believe also that there will 



48 Credo. 

be a great day of reckoning, when Christ the Judge will 
sentence the wicked to eternal punishment, and receive 
the righteous to eternal life. And I see no place for 
drawing the line of distinction between these two classes 
of men, but at the point of actual faith in Christ exercised 
during this earthly life. 

My doctrinal views, corroborated by observation and 
experience, lead me to the conclusion that the whole busi- 
ness of the church is to honor the Lord Jesus Christ, and 
to spread the knowledge of Him among men ; that the 
main duty of the individual believer is to use his influence 
in the church for the promulgation of the Gospel and the 
saving of lost souls ; and that any church or Christian 
that departs in any way from these obligations loses spirit- 
ual force, and merits the Master's displeasure. The name 
and presence of our Saviour are very precious to me. I 
cannot conceive of any honor too great to be paid to 
Him. And I regard with regret and pain all the sayings 
and doings of professed disciples which tend to lessen the 
authority of His teachings, or conceal the majesty of His 
person. It grieves me sorely to see Him thus wounded in 
the house of His friends. For myself I am constrained to jj 

say of Him, with all the reverence and fervor of which my 
powers are capable, 

" My Lord, my Life, my Sacrifice, 
My Saviour, and my AIL" 



SERMONS 



i 



A BACCALAUREATE. 

I Sam. ix : i, 2. There was a man of Benja^nin whose 
name was Ktsh, .... and he had a son, whose name was 
Saul, a choice young man, and a goodly. 

Acts ix : II. Inquire in the house of Judas for one called 
Saul of Tarsus ; for behold, he prayeth. 

Here are two men of Bible history. Both bore the 
same name. Each was a young man when he first ap- 
peared in public. Each became a leader of the people. 
The times in which they lived were nearly twelve centuries 
apart ; but their biographies are given so fully that it is 
not difficult to compare them. This comparing is what I 
wish to do in this discourse. 

Saul, the son of Kish, was the first king of the Hebrews. 
He was anointed by the prophet Samuel and wore the 
crown forty years. At first he seemed to be a successful 
statesman and general. The people supported him ; ene- 
mies fled before him ; and prosperity came to the land. 
But his success did not last. He became selfish and tyran- 
nical. The people found that they could not trust him, 
and left him to himself. Jealousy poisoned his afi'ections. 
Profanity spoiled his deeds of worship, and, worse than the 
rest perhaps, a madness, which was doubtless the legitimate 
result of unbridled passion, stole upon him, adding mental 



52 Sermons. 

darkness to a life already gloomy. Worse and worse he 
grew. More and more wildly he tossed upon the billows 
from which he might have escaped ; until at last he struck 
the fatal rock and plunged from mortal sight, a total wreck, 
in shame and ruin. 

Saul of Tarsus was a" Roman Jew, born soon after the 
Christian era began ; brought up by a Pharisee, well edu- 
cated in the learning of his time. He was a young man 
when Jesus was before the public, and must have known 
something about His ministry, and especially His arrest 
and crucifixion. The next year he was presecuting the 
Christians. He consented to Stephen's martyrdom. He 
made havoc of the church at Jerusalem. He sought and 
obtained permission to go to Damascus on a similar errand 
of religious zeal. But the Lord met him on the way, 
showed him his error, changed his heart, and set him 
about new work. Thenceforth he preached the Gospel of 
Christ. Supplying his bodily needs by the labor of his 
hands, he made it his chief business to tell men the glad 
news of redemption ; and his sole anxiety was to see and 
speak to as many as possible. He told the story in one 
place, and then went to another. Syria, Asia Minor, 
Macedonia, Greece and Italy, successively received the 
message at his mouth. Idolatrous Ephesus, erudite Athens, 
voluptuous Corinth, and at last great Rome herself, list- 
ened to his words and saw many of their citizens con- 
verted through those words to the new faith. He came 
into contact with all sorts of people, and he treated them 
alike with tender interest. Those who knew him loved 
and trusted him. He was at home with the common peo- 
ple, yet he could mingle easily with the great. Rank and 



Sermons. 53 

royalty had neither attractions nor terrors for him. He 
lived busily year after year. He preached, he wrote, he 
prayed. And then he died, leaving the world richer for 
w^hat he had done. 

Such were the two Sauls. My design in comparing 
them is to find lessons in character for the young people 
before me, which may make their lives stronger and better. 
And as we begin, let us notice some points of resemblance 
between the two men. 

I. Both were young men of talent aud promise. The 
text tells us what the son of Kish was ; and the passage 
says further that there was not among the children of Israel 
a goodlier person than he. Personal beauty was, as it is 
now, a desirable possession : and Saul had it. x\nd he 
had also mental and moral characteristics which set him 
high among the people. He seemed strong-willed, self- 
reliant, and kind-hearted. He was a man of so much force 
and merit that he was thought to be a fit person to occupy 
and give his name to the newly erected throne of the 
Hebrews. And he ascended the throne with as fair 
promise of a brilliant reign as ever mortal sovereign had. 

Saul of Tarsus was a young man of talent, too. Quick 
of perception, abounding in knowledge, ready in the use 
of language, he would have attracted attention anywhere, 
in any age. Great in human learning, mighty in reason- 
ing, and skillful in using advantages gained, he could 
meet and match both the philosophers in abstruse argu- 
ment and the priest in religious discussion. He was en- 
dowed by nature and qualified by training for the filling 
of a high position. As he rose from the feet of Gamaliel 
and came forth upon the arena of public life, his friends 



54 Sermons. 

could not but predict for him a career of brilliant achieve- 
ment and deserved distinction. 

2. Each lived in a remarkable and critical time. The 
people of Israel were just entering upon a new and im- 
portant period of their national existence. They had been 
ruled by judges ; now they were to have a real king and 
be like the nations around them. It was indeed a critical 
time with them, for according as their first king ruled well 
or ill, their throne would be respected or despised. And 
besides, the hand of oppression was even then heavy upon 
them. They must have immediate deliverance ; and who 
should be their deliverer but their new king ? They were 
all ready to take him to their hearts, to follow and obey 
him implicitly. What an opportunity for Saul ! When a 
young man commands a good position, when the confidence 
of others is reposed in him, when the stars in their courses 
seem ready to declare themselves on his side, what a grand 
place he stands in ; and how it becomes him to fill it well ! 

The other Saul lived in a time of great events. The 
Jews had been robbed of everything but their pride, and 
were scattered throughout the Roman empire. The Sa- 
viour of the world had finished His earthly ministry, and 
ascended to heaven. According to His command the 
Gospel must be preached to all the world. But who was to 
preach it ? Some thousands of Jews had been won to the 
new faith, but persecutions and divisions had made the in- 
terest flag. It was a critical time for the new religion, 
by which alone the old could be saved. If some man 
of profound mind and large learning could only be 
added to the number of the apostles, its promise might 
at once take on a nobler look. Just then that man 



Sermons. 5 5 

appeared. He was Saul of Tarsus. And what an oppor- 
tunity he had ! 

3. Each was called to a special work and trusted by the 
people to do that work. The first Saul was to be the de- 
liverer and the head of the chosen people. He was to be 
their representative before the nations, and to lead them in 
the practice of virtue and godliness. The people accepted 
him. At once upon his presentation to them they cried, 
'^ God save the king" with loud enthusiasm, and promised 
to support and follow him. 

Saul of Tarsus also had a special call. As much as this 
was confided beforehand to Ananias of Damascus, that he 
was a chosen vessel unto God to bear His name before the 
Gentiles and kings, and the children of Israel. His calling 
was as great as that of a king, for he was to reach and 
move those who held the highest rank. Many souls of 
every condition were to be fitted through his labors for the 
toils of life and the heavenly rest, and the world itself was 
to be made better by the example and influence of a pure- 
minded, unselfish man. All this was meant by the voice 
that spoke his name on the Damascus road. His fellow 
converts did not foresee it all : but they knew his call and 
gave him such a w^elcome as great, good men deserve. 

4. Both entered upon their work with modesty, energy, 
and hope. King Saul accepted his honors with diffidence. 
He had scarcely confidence enough in himself to appear 
for public recognition. But w^e find him shortly afterwards 
at the head of his army, bravely attacking the enemy, re- 
ceiving the homage of his men, and looking into the future 
with courage. And there was a show of trusting in God 
too, which accorded well with the spirit of the nation and 



56 Sermons. 

promised good things for the subsequent years of his 
reign. Alas ! that it could not abide ! Alas ! that the 
clear morning sky of any human life should be clouded in 
before its noon ! 

The New Testament Saul also began his work with vigor 
and hope. It may seem strange that he could turn about 
so suddenly from persecuting the Christians to embracing 
their opinions. But it is easily explained. His conversion 
did not change him from an irreligious to a religious man. 
He was zealously religious before ; only the central article 
of his belief was an error. When the supernatural light 
shone about him, this error was revealed to him. He 
learned that Jesus was not an impostor, as he had sup- 
posed, but the true Messiah for whom the Jews were look- 
ing. With the frankness that belongs to great souls he at 
once acknowledged the change in his belief; and with his 
own characteristic energy he began to proclaim the truth 
in Christ. Would that all our young people had strength 
to acknowledge and advocate what they know to be right, 
never denying it by silence or in any other way. Would 
that they might be always willing to own their mistakes 
when they see them, and to put their influence squarely on 
the side of truth and light ! 

Thus you see that at the beginning of their public life 
these two young men were much alike ; but if we trace 
their history further we shall find sad differences. Notice 
then some points of contrast between them. 

I. In regard to the great object or aim of life. Every 
human life has its one aim, whether the individual is will- 
ing to acknowledge it or not. The soul is so constituted 
that the two courses of moral action are not equally at- 



Sermons. 5 7 

tractive to it. At any given time one is thought more of 
than the other. There are minor choices, inferior and 
temporary objects of action. But there is one ruling pur- 
pose which determines what the qtiality of the whole life 
is. And it ought to be added here that at the last analy- 
sis the great aim of any life is found to be either the honor 
of God or the exaltation of self. If we apply this truth to 
the lives of the two Sauls, I think we shall find the place 
where their paths begin to diverge. Saul, the king, re- 
solved to have his own way. At the beginning of his pub- 
lic career a question came up for him to decide, which in- 
volved this very point ; and in deciding it he sacrificed 
the word of God and the honor of the prophet to his own 
inclination. I think we have here the key to his whole 
life ; for as we read his history we find this selfish deter- 
mination growing stronger and stronger until the Lord is 
entirely forsaken. His will was the will of a giant. 
Samuel, Jonathan, David could not subdue it. It even 
refused to bend before Jehovah Himself. But it broke at 
last, as such a will must always do ; and at its breaking 
his life was shattered in irretrievable disaster. It was too 
late to save anything from the ruins. Nothing can be 
worse for a person than to be allowed always to have his 
own way. 

But how was it with Saul, the Christian convert ? He, 
too, had a mighty will. But he knew the highest law of 
liberty, and so put his w411 into harmony with God's, and 
kept it there. At the beginning of his new life, when he 
lay prostrate on the ground, overcome by the shining 
glory, he asked the earnest question, ''Lord, what wilt 
Thou have me to do ? " And I think this gives us the 



58 Sermons. 

key to his life. Ever afterwards he kept himself in com- 
munication with God, and sought His guidance in every- 
thing. Whatever the divine Spirit forbade he gave up at 
once, though it had been a cherished plan. Aad wher- 
ever the heavenly Guide told .Mm to go he went, though 
it seemed to be marching into the very jaws of death. It 
was enough for him at any time that he was following the 
Lord's direction. 

Nor must we overlook the importance of this fact of 
divine guidance or the lack of it, as it affected the stand- 
ing of the two men among their fellow men. When 
people are aware that a certain man has resolved to have 
his own way, their regard for him and deference to him 
are much diminished. This is because human nature is 
what it is. Reason says (narrowly perhaps, but naturally) 
that he is only their equal, and his purpose is no more 
entitled to respect than theirs. But if they know that a 
man seeks constant direction from the Supreme Being, 
and does as he does because he believes that Being tells 
him to do so, the)^ will respect him, even if they do not 
seek that direction for themselves. Reason tells them 
that God's words must be regarded, whether spoken by His 
own voice from heaven, or by the deeds of those who are 
guided by Him. The lives of the two Sauls show this 
difference. The king aroused the opposition of the people 
because he would have his own way ; and they drifted 
further and further away from him as long as he was with 
them. The apostle won the esteem and admiration of 
men by the manifest sincerity and practical power of his 
faith. The divine influence was evidently with him al- 
ways. Whatever he said was worth hearing, because he 



Ser77ions. 59 

said it not of himself, but for his Lord. Whatever plans 
he made were entitled to men's regard because he made 
them for God's honor, not his own. This leads to an- 
other thought. 

2. In respect to the character sustained in the world. 
I have just pointed out the springs of these two men's 
characters ; but look further at their outflowing. We see 
a difference at the first ; and that difference increases as 
we trace them along. On one side we find vacillation, 
insincerity, cowardice, jealousy ; on the other, decision, 
truthfulness, courage, self-denial. King Saul was fickle- 
minded. At times he would appear decided and firm ; 
but it did not last. In an hour he would leave that which 
he had been seeking, and plunge off after something else, 
likely enough its opposite. And he was not honest. He 
often said what he did not mean, and concealed what he 
really meant under something of an entirely different ap- 
pearance. Human nature will never learn to respect a 
person who acts in this way. There is that in our consti- 
tution which impels us to have regard for sincerity, ingen- 
uousness, transparency in character, and to despise prevar- 
ication and duplicity. This man was cowardly, too. By 
degrees he lost his courage and his manhood by indulging 
his vicious tastes. And so rapid and sure was his down- 
ward course that at the last he fairly sneaked out of the 
world in a way that filled his cup of dishonor to its brim. 
With the apostle it was different. He knew what he be- 
lieved and why he believed it ; and this made him resolute 
in everything he did. While he was quick, even shrewd, 
in the use of what we call vvordly wisdom, he was frank, 
sincere, and guileless. No one was ever deceived or mis- 



6o Sermons, 

led by him. Courage was one of his distinguishing traits. 
That heroic utterance of his in prospect of suffering and 
death at Jerusalem, ''None of these things move me," is 
accepted everywhere as the formulated utterance of Chris- 
tian fearlessness. Nor was his self-denial less admirable. 
It must have been no small sacrifice for a man of his tal- 
ents and opportunities to lay down all prospect of worldly 
distinction and wealth for the sake of doing good to 
others ; to accept a life of the severest toil and privation, 
when one of ease and luxury lay right before him. And 
this self-sacrifice, self-forgetfulness, was manifest in every- 
thing he did. If ever there was a greater man than Moses 
in this respect, that man was this apostle. But if he had 
a crowning virtue, it was his faith. To the list of the 
heroes of faith in the eleventh of Hebrews, his name 
might well be added. By faith Paul knew nothing among 
men save Jesus Christ and Him crucified, learned in what- 
ever state he was therewith to be content, became the 
chiefest of the apostles, fought a good fight, saw the wait- 
ing crown of glory. So the record might read. To him 
the personal presence of the Lord was a steady reality. 
He walked and talked with God, trusted and was cared 
for by Him every day. There are a few at this day who 
have such faith. I wish there were many more. 

The contrast in the character of these two men may be 
traced in other particulars. We see it in the company 
they kept, and the employments that occupied them. 
One seemed to dislike and avoid the society of the good 
and true ; the other chose it. One spent his leisure in 
trivial, self-gratifying pleasures ; the other found no leis- 
ure for anything but to do good to others. We see it also 



Sermons. 6 1 

in the degrees of fortitude with which they bore their 
trials, and the effect wrought upon them by the lapse of 
time. One was petulant, opinionated, revengeful ; the 
other gentle, self-controlled, forgiving. One as age ad- 
vanced grew weaker mentally and morally ; the other 
found the old time promise literally fulfilled, '^They that 
wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. ' ' 

3. In regard to the hopes entertained. Our anticipa- 
tions of the future are a large part of our life ; sometimes 
they seem to be its predominating element. Some of our 
hopes look forward a day, some a year, some a lifetime ; 
and each of these has its bearing upon our feelings and 
action in the present. But the best anticipations, the 
largest hopes, are those that take eternity as well as time 
into their reckoning. The man is pitifully short sighted 
who suffers his hopes to be bounded by the horizon of his 
earthly existence ; while the wise man is he who lays his 
treasure up in heaven, and so goes to it, instead of leaving 
it, when he dies. Here is a contrast between the two men 
whom we are studying. I cannot find from the record 
that King Saul entertained any great hopes. His doings 
seem to have been designed only for the present. He 
seems to have had no foresight beyond the few days and 
years immediately before him, As he grew older, the 
future grew darker ; and as he neared the end of his life 
the darkness closed around him with the blackness of mid- 
night. He showed no marked concern about his condition 
in eternity. Even his last piercing cry for light appears to 
have been prompted chiefly by the fear of losing the tem- 
poral advantage that he had gained. He saw his loss ; he 
knew his failure was sure ; and this was w^hat made him 



6 2 Sej^mons. 

wretched. He had nothing to take the place of what he 
had lost. He was hopelessly stripped of all that he pos- 
sessed for time or eternity. But how was it with the other 
Saul ? If you will look at his recorded speeches on vari- 
ous occasions and his carefully written statements, you 
will find that his anticipation of the future life, his Chris- 
tian hope, was invariably put in the foreground. When- 
ever he spoke or wrote of himself, it was not his talents, 
not his works, not his sufferings, but his hopes, that he 
persisted in calling men's attention to. And these, fired 
by an overcoming faith, make his words glow with a 
heavenly radiance equalled only by that which flashes 
from the writings of St. John himself. The future was 
not dark to him. He saw the things of time and the 
things of eternity in their true proportions. And while 
he did not fail to value the former at as much as they 
were worth, he found the latter worth infinitely more, and 
gave his best attention to them. 

One of these men saw only darkness before him ; the 
other nothing but brightness. Both sought knowledge of 
the future; one by the beastly, God -cursed art of necro- 
mancy; the other by the promised aid of the Holy Spirit. 
One repaired by night to the prince of darkness; the 
other visited at any time and openly the God of all glory. 
We have what we may call the last words of each. The 
king on the bloody field of defeat called excitedly to his 
armor bearer, '' Draw thy sword and thrust me through 
therewith, lest these uncircumcised come and abuse me.'^ 
The apostle, with the most cruel of deaths staring him in 
the face, calmly wrote, ^^I am now ready to be offered, 
and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a 



Sermons. 63 

good . fight ; I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is 
laid up for me a crown of righteousness which the Lord 
the righteous Judge shall give me at that day." And the 
contrast was completed at the final hour. One died the 
death of a cowardly suicide ; the other, that of an exult- 
ant martyr. O, my friends, what is any hope good for 
that does not reach beyond the grave ? 

4. In respect to the impression left by the individual 
life upon the world. One of the best ways to measure a 
person is by the influence that lives after him. One of 
the noblest possible objects of ambition is to leave a good 
influence. Well has John Keble written, 

" We scatter seed with careless hand, 
And dream we ne'er shall see them more ; 

But for a thousand years 

Their fruit appears, 
In weeds that mar the land, 

Or healthful store." 

Some SOW kindness and love, which, tended by the 
heavenly watchers and quickened by the river of Provi- 
dence as it flows down through the ages, spring up in lux- 
uriance and bear rich blessings for mankind. Others, 
sad to say, scatter seeds of passion and vice, which speed- 
ily germinate in this world of evil, and bring forth heavy 
crops of misery and woe. Here is another difl*erence be- 
tween these two men. One so changeful in his moods 
and untrustworthy in his doings as King Saul, can never 
do much good or leave a great name behind him. And 
when besides this we consider how little he cared for his 
fellow men, and how persistently he disobeyed his Maker, 



64 Sermons. 

we cannot think it strange that he is remembered as a 
selfish, unlovely man. There were great things about 
him ; but his very greatness added to the weight that car- 
ried him down after he determined to live for himself. 
He might have done much good and left a name to be re- 
vered by generations to come. But instead of this what 
are the facts? His people cast him off. The nations 
around them despised him. And mankind to this day 
have read or told his story only as a warning for those 
who are in danger of forsaking the Lord. 

But the apostle — who is also called Paul — what an im- 
pression he made upon the world ! How his influence has 
been felt for good in all the centuries that have rolled 
away since Jesus first appeared to him ! His steady, un- 
selfish life ; his earnest preaching ; his loving, living let- 
ters to the saints ; his faithfulness unto death ; these are 
things that time cannot destroy. His name will be rever- 
enced as long as Christ's Gospel is preached. It is not 
too much to say that his influence is one of the great in- 
visible forces that are ripening the world for its millennial 
glory. 

Here then is the final point of contrast. As a man, 
with the sacred mission of a man, Saul the king was a 
miserable failure ; Paul, the Christian, was a magnificent 
success. In their influence upon mankind for good, the 
one was no more than a cipher ; the other has been one of 
the definite powers of enlightened society for hundreds of 
years. The extinction of Saul's family was but a type of 
his influence on the world : Paul without family has been 
moving the world ever since he lived in it. As a pattern 
the one is worthy of little imitation : the other is the best 



Sermons. 65 

standard of manly moral character the world has ever seen, 
excepting the Lord Jesus Christ. 

Now, my friends, this little character study has its profit 
for us all, but especially for the young people. As you 
attend to it, please make the broadest application you can. 
Do not misapprehend its meaning. Do not make its use 
too narrow by stopping to dwell upon the particulars of the 
narratives. It is not necessary for one of you to be either 
a monarch or a missionary in order to avoid the faults of 
the one Saul and copy the virtues of the other. Nor need 
the silly distinction of sex, too often made in these days, 
debar any one from making a full application of the theme. 
This is a study of cha7^acter : and its great lesson is, that 
according as any human being controls and disciplines 
himself, or fails to do this, so are his life, his influence, and 
his future condition. In other words, it is the truth so 
solemnly taught in the New Testament that whatsoever a 
man sows that shall he also reap. To restrain passion, to 
put down selfishness, to consecrate ambition to a holy use ; 
in a word, to keep God's law, is to achieve success, what- 
ever position you may occupy among your fellow men. 
On the other hand, to give loose rein to appetite, desire, 
or caprice ; to live for self instead of others ; to forget 
God and ignore His law^, is to go down inevitably to fail- 
ure and ruin. The solemn thought comes to me at this 
hour that there may be this world-wide difference of char- 
acter and destiny between friends whom I now see before 
me. Saul, the stubborn wrong-doer, and Paul, the hero of 
Christian faith, may be sitting here side by side. I cannot 
tell. Perhaps you yourselves do not know whether it is so 



66 Sermons, 

or not. But there is one thing that each of you can do. 
You can choose the right. You can mould your desires 
Godward and heavenward, rather than allow them to be 
fixed upon self and the world. Let me tell you this fur- 
ther. A person! s character is i7tvariably determined by the 
way in which he treats his Maker. All his other relations 
balance themselves around this center. Acknowledge 
God, enjoy Him, serve Him, trust Him, be intimate with 
Him ; and you will be perpetually surprised to find how 
difficulties and discords adjust themselves. Here comes in 
our contrast once more. King Saul forgot, neglected, for- 
sook the Lord and his God : and what terrible unrest was 
his for years before he disappeared from human view ! 
The New Testament Saul heard, obeyed, and loved the 
Lord his Saviour ; and what unearthly peace and joy were 
his as he passed away through trials such as few have ever 
borne ! One of these two courses every one of you has 
chosen, or will choose. And, believe me, your life and 
doings are, and will be, all awry until the right choice is 
made. This is said to be an age of unusual requirement 
and promise. The young people of to-day certainly have 
larger opportunities than any have ever had before them. 
Shall I tell you what is the first and greatest step in im- 
proving these opportunities ? Put yourself in the right 
relation to God. Believe in Him, and in Jesus Christ 
whom He has sent, that the all important eternal life may 
be an established fact within your soul. If you wish to 
influence the world for good, this is the way to do it. The 
lifting of the world out of the mire of selfishness and sin 
must be done by the Infinite Saviour who was Himself 
lifted up above the world upon the cross. By natural law 



Sermons. 67 

the greater attracts and moves the less. And none can 
help Him lift the world, save those who have themselves 
experienced the power and privilege of the cross. Noth- 
ing human can do the world more good than a steady, 
cheerful, Christlike life. Nothing can do it less good 
than a Godless, Christless human life. 

All the great movements which the world has known 
have been, or have originated in, religious movements. 
Any nation's power and standing are controlled by its re- 
ligious life. How unspeakably important it is, then, that 
the religious principles and practices of the young people 
of to-day should be everything they ought to be ! The 
great personal question with each of you, my friends, is 
not that of political party, not that of labor and capital, 
not that of culture or profession, but that of proper, happy 
relation to God through Christ the Saviour and Revealer. 
Settle this in the right way, and none of the others need 
trouble you greatly. 



6^ Sen? 



" IF IT WERE NOT SO, I WOULD HAVE TOLD 

YOU." 

The sweetness of this saying of our Saviour increases 
with our experience ; and the better we know its meaning 
the more we wish to use it. There are times when the 
silence of a friend is more convincing and comforting than 
words could be. It is often, perhaps unusually, the case 
that speaking is an assumption of anxiety or doubt on the 
part of the person addressed. Assertion betrays a fear ot 
the need of persuasion ; while silence takes both safety and 
faith for granted. Perfect friendship is that which never 
finds occasion to express itself, but covers all intercourse 
with implicit, restful confidence. All friendship is based 
on personal confidence ; hence the matter of trust is set- 
tled beforehand, and any temporary lack of trust is a 
slighting of the friendly relation. 

This is what our Lord means by the connection of his 
sentences: '^Believe in Me: in My Father's house are 
many mansions : if it were not so, I would have told you." 
It is a painful commentary on the weakness of our faith in 
him that such words ever need to be spoken to us. But 
He deals with that weakness tenderly. He wishes us to 
feel that because we believe in Him, everything is right oj 
course, since if it were otherwise He, in His infinite love 
and foresight, would have pointed it out in season. We 
may not be able to see the mansions — places of joy in this 



Sermons. 69 

life, as well as in the next — which are prepared for us. 
But He knows, and that is enough. His knowledge is far 
better for us than our own could possibly be. We believe 
in Him ; and so of course we are happy. How fittingly 
and completely He thus conditions our daily enjoyment on 
the strength of our faith in Him ! And oh ! what needless 
pain we bear when we worry and fidget about things which 
we cannot understand ! It is wanting to know things 
which we have no business to meddle with that makes half 
the trouble of which Christians complain. Most of us 
need to learn to emphasize the '^ of course " which is im- 
plied in our personal belief. Not long ago I was riding on 
a train which was to be divided at a certain junction. 
The conductor stood at the door of the car in which I sat, 
as the preparations for uncoupling were being made. He 
spoke no word, but the calm look which he gave us was 
assurance enough. He knew which way the car was going, 
and he had examined our tickets and knew that we were in 
the right place. What was there for him to say? Of 
course we were all right. If it were not so, he would have 
told us. His silence was all we could ask for. And when 
one over-anxious passenger bustled up the aisle to inquire 
about it, we could not help smiling at his foolishness. It 
was a beautiful lesson. The tears came into my eyes as I 
said to myself: " This is just what Christ wants of me — to 
have as perfect confidence in Him about everything as I 
have in this conductor about the way I am going to-day. 
I believe in Him, and He cares for me. Of course He will 
make it all right. iVnd what have I to doubt or fear?" 
What Christ desires of us is the warm appreciation of His 
loving care, and perfect trust in him. All the particulars 



70 Sermons. 

and doings of our life will fall into place with quiet pre- 
cision around the center of our faith. Why, then, need 
we be anxious for the future ? Why be overwhelmed by 
present burdens ? Why raise questions of curiosity or im- 
patience with regard to this or that ? Why bother our- 
selves about what He has not told us ? To do so is to 
slight His friendship as well as to betray the littleness of 
our own souls. What if He has not revealed to us all we 
would like to know about the manner of the divine exis- 
tence, the relation of men's responsibility to God's sove- 
reignty, the condition of the departed, or the particulars of 
the resurrection ? We are not to indulge in fear or doubt 
on this account. Our acceptance of the doctrines of 
Scripture should be reasonable and consistent with itself, 
since it has a definite center. We believe in Christ ; and 
if all things that concern us were not true and right. He 
would have certainly told us. His silence is more assuring 
than words could be, because we trust Him. The great 
need of the world, the great need of the church, the great 
need of individual disciples, is more implicit, unselfish, 
comprehensive faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. 



Sermons, 7 1 



^^ WHERE I AM." 

I think these words, as our Saviour used them on several 
occasions, have a deeper meaning than the casual reader 
gets from' them. We often miss the present comfort of His 
sayings by applying them only to the future. Our com- 
mon ideas draw too heavy a line between the earthly and 
the heavenly enjoyment of Christ's presence. If His pres- 
ence is the one great joy of the believer's life, then 
'' heaven begun below " is a literal fact. 

In His discourse about the many mansions he says : ^^ I 
will come again, and receive you unto Myself, that where 
I am ye may be also." Manifestly the primary reference 
of the words is to the perfect heavenly condition. But the 
present tense contains a blessing for us all along the way 
thither. The '^ perfect day" does not come all at once, 
any more than the natural day. The believer's pathway 
shines '' more and more," till completeness is upon him. 
We are with Christ no less now than we shall be beyond 
the grave. 

So in the Saviour's prayer He says: ^^I will that they 
also whom thou hast given Me be with Me where I am." 
Of course He refers primarily to the future, but He evi- 
dently suggests also an allusion to the present. Those 
who are His are with Him here. They walk by His side. 
They go in and out with Him. They bear their burdens 
and do their work with strength derived directly from Him. 



7 2 Sermons. 

Again, when the disciples introduced the inquiring 
Greeks to Him, He said to them : ^^ Where I am, there 
shall also My servant be." The allusion to the present is 
even clearer here, for the words just preceding are : '^If 
any man serve Me, let him follow Me." The blessedness 
of being with Him is a present blessedness. Notwithstand- 
ing the evils which prevent our perfect union with Him 
here, this privilege is certainly ours. 

In His words to the unbelieving Jews : " Where I am ye 
cannot come," we find the same meaning. Those who 
hate and reject Him not only cannot see Him in heaven, 
but do not come where He is now. They have no regard 
for Him, no sympathy with Him. The beholding of His 
face is not their chief joy. How can they be with Him, 
either here or hereafter ? 

In all these passages and many others there is the same 
recognition of the fact that our earthly enjoyment, as well 
as our heavenly bliss, depends upon our connection with a 
divine-human Saviour. His use of language is often a con- 
cession to our weakness and ignorance. When He spoke 
in the present tense of His own existence His meaning was 
broader and deeper than we sometimes think. I am fully 
persuaded that the Old Testament I Am shines out in all 
these utterances of His. He is alike in heaven with the 
Father and on earth with us. In the body He could speak 
of 'Agoing to heaven." In the spirit He is always in 
heaven. And those who are with Him anywhere have 
the joy of heaven. Happy are they who truly discern and 
appropriate this precious truth. 



Sermons. 7 3 



I. Tim. i: 11. The glorious gospel of the blessed God. 



During the building of the famous Strasbourg cathedral 
the architect died, leaving his plan for some one else to 
carry out. It was all put down carefully in his draw- 
ings. Every one who studied them could see that he de- 
signed the walls to be carried to a certain height, that the 
roof was to be finished in a certain way, and that there 
were to be towers and spires in certain places. But the 
general plan of the whole cathedral was so vast and com- 
prehensive, that after the man who made it passed away, no 
one could be found who thoroughly understood it. His 
daughter, who perhaps knew more than any other person 
about his habits of thought, as well as about this particular 
design, at last undertook to complete the work according 
to the original plan. She tried hard and studied much to 
enter into her father's grand undertaking. She actually 
superintended the work of building for several years, be- 
cause she was thought to be the only person who could in 
any worthy degree carry out the design. But she died at 
last, w^ithout having fully comprehended the plan : and it 
is said that the magnificent temple as it stands to-day has 
sad architectural deformities because the great originator's 
unity of design could not be realized ; because no one was 
found who could grasp his thought in its magnitude and 
develop it in its details. 

Does not this illustrate the w^ork that Jesus Christ has 



74 Sermons, 

done for men ? His grand plan was to save the world 
from its bondage ; to glorify the triune God by redeeming 
and regenerating it. But no one has been found who 
understood it all. Christ stood alone. Since He left the 
world in the flesh, there is no man in it who can compre- 
hend His love, His pity, His self-denial. We can look 
with delight into such details of His work as are spread out 
before us. We can see in individual cases how the fetters 
of sin are broken, how the blind are restored to sight, how 
the deaf are made to hear and the lame to walk. With 
our own ears we can hear the acceptable year of the Lord 
proclaimed and the good news preached to the poor. But 
the whole of Christ's wonderful undertaking we cannot 
comprehend. His labor and sacrifice are more than any 
man can know. The angels were struck with wonder at 
His mission ; and while He was fulfilling it, earth slum- 
bered and heaven was silent. None but Christ can 
worthily carry on and complete the work of spiritual reno- 
vation which Christ has begun in the world ; and were He 
not now present in the world by His Spirit, our condition 
and prospects would be deplorable indeed. 

It cannot be thought strange, then, that in the new rev- 
elation of redeeming love, the strength of human language 
is taxed to its utmost. The story of what Christ has done 
is to us ''The Gospel.'' It is a Gospel '^ of glory'' — a 
"glorious Gospel." It is the " Gospel of God" — the 
Gospel of the infinitely holy and blessed One. It is 
'' the glorious Gospel of the blessed God I Could words ex- 
press any more than this phrase contains ? 

But without attempting to explain the whole meaning of 
this wonderful verse, let us see what the Gospel does for 



Sermons. 7 5 

men. We can best learn to appreciate it by dwelling on 
the benefits which it brings. And in doing this many of 
us find it a matter of personal experience ; while all, I 
doubt not, can speak somewhat from observation or knowl- 
edge of history. 

I . // subdues the bad passions of men. These are anger, 
hatred, revenge, envy, lust, and the like. No one ever 
denies that these are evil. The very mention of the words 
always conveys the idea that they are dangerous exercises 
and must be checked as much as possible. They have their 
origin in the tendencies of our souls to love evil and do it. 
Of their universality no one who has lived a few years in 
this world can have a doubt. And their strength, like 
that of the little mountain brook, is best proved by trying 
to subdue it. I think it is not too much to say that the 
Gospel, by means of its influence over the sources of 
action, keeps these passions under control with more firm- 
ness and permanence than anything else can do. Many 
people try to keep their evil propensities in check by the 
force of their own wills. There are some minds strong 
enough to do this in single instances. Several times I 
have known a man to break off a bad habit, because he was 
convinced that it injured him, by simply determining to do 
so, without the help of grace, and then keeping the resolu- 
tion. But the vast majority of mankind cannot do this. 
They are too much exposed to temptation and too suscep- 
tible of its power. And the strong ones, who boast of 
having succeeded once, are almost sure to be overcome 
afterwards. Doubtless before now we have all been morti- 
fied and hmmbled by our failures in this thing ; and the 
proverbial impotency of good resolutions bears its testi- 



76 Sermom. 

mony to the universal need of some strength besides our 
own to subdue the evil that is in us. We all know that 
the best way to destroy weeds is to pull them up by the 
roots ; to eradicate them. If they are broken off above 
the ground, we gain only a temporary relief: they will 
soon sprout up again, and be as vigorous as ever. Just so 
with these bad passions which are the sources of so many 
of our besetting sins. They must be made to die root and 
branch, if we would be rid of their evil effects. It is not 
much gain to break one off temporarily : it will soon ap- 
pear again with double its former strength. And in order 
to kill them, something more than transient effort is neces- 
sary. The eradicating force must reach deeper than the 
surface of the life ; down into the subsoil of the soul's 
nature, where the roots of sin begin to grow. The Gospel 
does this far reaching service for the soul. It does not 
help the sinner merely by strengthening his resolutions to 
overcome bad habits. It goes down into the depths of his 
heart, and removes gradually the very desires and tenden- 
cies to do evil. Those who love intoxicating drinks have 
a fearful appetite to struggle against ; and if we may be- 
lieve the statements of Mr. Gough, and others, very few if 
any are permanently reformed without the aid of God's 
grace. Anger, too : one-half of the world probably knows 
very little of what the other half suffers from that which we 
call ^^ quick temper." And, though by close watching 
such a temper may be greatly subdued and trained, yet I 
am of the opinion that nothing but Gospel grace can keep 
it where it ought to be. And the same is true of an envi- 
ous or a lustful disposition. In this, then, may be seen 
one of the glories of the Gospel. It brings an almighty 



Se7'mons. 7 7 

Christ into the life of each individual believer. Human 
hands may not be able to control the demoniac's strength; 
but there is a Power that can. Men can only endure or 
avoid him. Jesus brings him to His feet, clothed, and in 
his right mind. 

2 . // takes away the gloom of living. I do not mean by 
this phrase that life is all dark and gloomy ; or that there 
is more shadow than sunshine in the world. This is not 
true. But I refer to that strange, indefinable something 
which finds its way into every human soul more or less, I 
think, and brings with it a sense of sadness that cannot be 
thrown off or disguised. I do not know how to describe 
it ; and yet I wish I could, that I might be able to show 
you one of the most beautiful effects produced by Gospel 
influence upon our life. Did you ever notice how, at times, 
and especially during the hour of evening twilight, a sad 
feeling will come quietly stealing over you and refuse to go 
away at your bidding ? You could not tell what it was — 
you did not wish the trouble of analyzing it — yet each 
time there was something distinctly marked. Sometimes 
it was regret for the past — sometimes weariness at the 
present — sometimes dread of the future. Sometimes there 
was a dreary wondering why things must be as they are — 
sometimes an impatient longing for something more — 
more knowledge — more happiness — more life. There was 
a restless, unsatisfied feeling, that brought unbidden teais 
to your eyes — and unless something interrupted your train 
of thought, you soon found yourself in quite an unhappy 
mood. Then there are other experiences. Occasionally 
you are irritable and fretful, perhaps — and having given 
vent to your complainings, you are filled with the sorrow 



78 Sermons. 

that comes from loss of self-respect. You see sickness and 
distress — and in the intensity of your sympathy you forget 
all the bright things in the world. Pain and suffering 
come upon yourself — and you wearily exclaim that there is 
no more happiness for you, A dear friend dies ; and as 
the grave closes over the precious dust, everything bright 
and beautiful seems to be buried there. You find things 
in nature that sadden you, too. You see the rain fall and 
the floods rise, threatening property and life — you see 
great snow storms and cyclones come, destroying life and 
hindering the world's work — you see untimely frosts and 
great swarms of insects destroying or damaging the world's 
supplies, and you pettishly wonder if God's promises are 
not true. Without effort the words of doubt rise to your 
lips. 

" The day is quenched, and the sun is fled ; 
God has forgotten the world ! 
The moon is gone, and the stars are dead ; 
God has forgotten the world ! " 

These are common experiences with people who think ; 
and they shoAv that there is naturally in every human soul 
an element of unrest, disquietude, unhappiness, which at 
times comes to the surface and gives a gloomy cast to the 
whole life. If we were to look for its origin we should 
find it in the moral evil which taints us all ; and here we 
touch the special point on account of which I have men- 
tioned these things. The Gospel takes this gloom away : 
gradually, but surely. Once received into the human 
heart, grace reigns there. There is a brightness greater 
than the gloom ; and, by and by, the darkness will be en- 



Ser7nons. 79 

tirely gone. If you are a Christian you will remember 
that those twilight reveries brought you something besides 
sadness ; faith, hope, and love came to you and satisfied 
you that all was well ; and if tears continued to flow, they 
were no longer tears of unmitigated pain. When you had 
done wrong, you were consoled with the pledge of forgive- 
ness. In sickness and suffering you were mindful that 
God loved you. When the dear one died, you remem- 
bered that there is a glorious, perfect world bordering on 
this, and that Jesus has mansions there for all His own. 
In the natural and providential evils that you saw, you 
knew God's way of taking care of us is greatest, wisest, 
best. The song of faith rose louder in your soul than that 
of doubt. 

" Day will return with a fresher boon ; 
God will remember the world ! 
Night will come with a newer moon ; 

God will remember the world ! " 



And whenever personal trials of any kind came upon 
you, I think you were aware that a Divine Presence was 
with you, and a voice spoke to you from out the darkness ; 
the same voice that reassured the frightened disciples when 
it rang out over the heaving billows of Gennesaret's Sea ; 
saying, ^^ It is I ; be not afraid." 

The Gospel does take away the gloom of living. The 
reckless Bolinbroke was led to say " No religion has ever 
appeared in the world, of which the natural tendency is so 
much directed as the Christian, to promote the peace and 
happiness of mankind ; " and any one who has experienced 



8o Sermons. 

its power is ready with Paul to call it " the glorious Gos- 
pel of the blessed God." 

3. It purifies the whole life. ^'Either make the tree 
good and his fruit good," says the Saviour; ^-or else 
make the tree corrupt and his fruit corrupt ; for the tree is 
known by his fruit." And this is the principle on which 
God acts in renewing the human soul. In the case of any 
Christian, the tree has been made good and has begun to 
bear good fruit. The man may not be able to talk philo- 
sophically of his change, any more than the little child can 
explain the phenomena of sunrise ; but he can enjoy it and 
be very happy in it. He may be as ignorant and simple 
as the blind man whom Jesus cured ; but he can also be as 
positive. ^^One thing I know; that, whereas I was 
blind, now I see. ' ' Things he once hated, now he loves ; 
and with the new love come new purposes, new thoughts, 
new words, new deeds, which make the w^orld wonder at 
the change in his outward life, while inwardly he has the 
sweet consciousness that he is a new creature in Christ. 
And such experiences, when multiplied by hundreds and 
thousands, have a determining influence upon the character 
of human society. It is not too much to say that a com- 
munity, a state, a nation, is pure and strong just in pro- 
portion as it encourages its people to meet the require- 
ments of the Gospel. Even Gibbon, in describing the de- 
cline of the Roman Empire, bears testimony in these 
words. '' The Christian religion is a religion which diffuses 
among the people a pure, benevolent, and universal system 
of ethics, adapted to every condition of life." Converted 
heathen have been heard congratulating each other on their 
improved condition under the Gospel, and thanking God 



Sermons. 8 1 

for sending missionaries to them. Christianity has carried 
homes and domestic happiness to men who before lived 
like the brutes ; has opened the treasure house of nature 
for their use, and given them the blessing of art. It has 
developed the capacities for good which lay dormant in 
their souls, and afforded them opportunities for exercise. 
It is the Gospel that has brought into being our benevolent 
institutions. Those who have searched the records of 
heathen Greece and Rome, tell us that they have nowhere 
found a word indicating the existence of a charitable or- 
ganization. Scholars who have read the ancient inscrip- 
tions on newly discovered tablets of stone from the far 
east, travellers who have ransacked the nearer graves of 
Herculaneum and Pompeii, aver that they find nothing 
which gives evidence that the people of those lands pro- 
vided homes for the homeless or bread for the poor. But 
the doing of such things as these is one of the brightest 
glories of practical Christianity. In the suppression of 
evil and the development of good, the Gospel has been the 
force of the world's history. Look at details a little. It 
has changed the house of rioting and dissipation into a 
Christian home, and erected an altar of prayer and praise to 
God, where once was heard nothing better than oaths and 
curses. It has changed the drunkard and the swearer into 
pious and useful members of society, the trickster and the 
cheat into honest tradesmen, the spendthrift and the gam- 
bler into upright God-fearing men. It has reformed the 
Sabbath-breaker, the liar, the talebearer, the debauchee, 
the miser, and the glutton. It has transformed the cruel 
robber into the loving neighbor, the dreaded murderer into 
the faithful friend, and the daring rebel into the peaceable. 



8 2 Sermons. 

law-abiding citizen. The savage cannibal has heard the 
tender story and wept at the memory of his former ways. 
Even the wild man of the forest and the Bedouin of the 
desert have listened to its message and been tamed to gen- 
tleness and love. It has carried peace, prosperity, and 
happiness into lands ravaged by the sword and deluged in 
blood. It has built up decaying kingdoms, strengthened 
tottering thrones, and brought republics into existence 
before the very eyes of bitter enemies. It has brought 
whole nations out of the darkness of paganism, and given 
them the light of culture and civilization. It has con- 
tributed the choicest gems to the world's literature, and 
raised the standard of refinement in everything. All this 
the doctrine of the cross has done for mankind. And as 
we see the world hastening rapidly on to the completing 
of its renovation, we can but explain with emphasis, ' ' The 
glorious Gospel of the blessed God. ' ' 

4. It gives hope in death and light to the fidure. To 
the gaze of the natural man the grave looks dark and the 
hereafter uncertain : but not so to him whose soul the 
Gospel has enlightened. The earnest but weary longing 
to know what is beyond has given way to the certainty of 
faith ; and the dim but harrowing dread of leaping out into 
the great unknown to the happy assurance of hope. 
Abundant testimony on either side directly from the lips 
of the dying could be cited in proof of this. The Chris- 
tian fears no evil ; for he is attended in death, as he has 
been in life, by One who has all power. Therefore, when 
he passes away from earth there is triumph. Standing on 
the brink of the grave, he can look down before him and 
cry, ^^O grave, where is thy victory?" While in the 



Sermons. 83 

very act of struggling with the last great enemy, he can 
call out the exultant challenge, " O death, where is thy 
sting ? ' ' The king of terrors is conquered ; and it is He 
who hung upon the cross that achieved the conquest. 
Here again then, the Gospel of a crucified and risen 
Saviour is seen to be " the glorious Gospel of the blessed 
God." In this glory the Christian participates by a more 
and more precious experience ; and when the hour of his 
departure comes, peacefully resting on the assurance that 
Jesus is the resurrection and the life, he gladly leaves the 
things of the flesh behind and enters forever into the joy 
of his Lord. 

Such is the Gospel — such is the blessing it brings to 
men. One sad question arises here. Why has not its 
work for mankind been universal and complete ? Why 
after nearly two thousand years of promulgation are there 
so few comparatively who know its power and receive its 
blessing? There is no lack in the Gospel itself — nothing 
wanting in the way it is given to men, and the methods 
prescribed for the spreading of it. No new obstacle to its 
progress has arisen century by century. It meets no enemy 
now that was not met ages ago. The difficulties were all 
anticipated and provided for from the beginning. Its 
constitution has always been perfect. Its Author cannot 
be surprised, deceived, or disappointed. All the blame, 
then, if it has not accomplished what it should have done, 
must be attached to men; the persistency with which they 
love darkness rather than light ; their dullness in perceiv- 
ing what is their highest good ; their slowness in accepting 
the truth after they know it. And the church does not 
give the Gospel the appreciation it deserves. I suppose 



84 Sermons. 

Christ meant to impress the idea upon His disciples' minds 
that their chief work in the world to the end of time is to 
publish and maintain the knowledge of Him. But what pro- 
portion of His professed followers in all the ages do you 
suppose have made it really so ? Probably there are thous- 
ands of members of the church to-day, who give more atten- 
tion and affection to the things of the earth than they do to 
the things of Christ — who with regard to their time, property 
and opportunities try to draw a dividing line, saying, ^^This 
for Christ, and the rest for myself;" ''So much for re- 
ligion, and all that remains for luxury and pleasure." Not 
remembering that they have promised all to Christ and are 
perjuring themselves when they keep anything back. Dear 
friends, can we expect the Gospel to fill the world with its 
blessings — can we expect the word of God to have free 
course and be glorified, when such ideas as these are enter- 
tained and such things as these are done ? Probably the 
pulpit is much at fault. Through worldliness or the fear 
of men the watchman's trumpet too often gives an uncer- 
tain sound : and the people are flattered into self-righteous 
indifference or lulled into apathetic repose, when they 
ought to be spurred up to higher activity for others or 
alarmed for their own safety. Too often the Gospel is not 
preached in its purity and plainness. Too often the 
preacher ministers to the corrupted sensibilities of his 
hearers. Certain ears are too delicate, forsooth, to hear the 
words that Jesus uttered in their plain application to every 
soul ; so those words must be softened by some refinement 
of exegesis or explained away by some plausible argument. 
Certain members of the congregation are rich and influen- 
tial, forsooth ; and the pulpit must treat them with mild 



Sermons. 85 

doctrine, or there is danger of the withdrawal of their sup- 
port. It is a shame and a disgrace to the church of Christ 
that any one is obliged to own the truth of these things. 
But they are true — not universally, of course — but occa- 
sionally they are true — we all know they are. And while 
there is any truth in them, can we expect the Gospel to fill 
the earth with its promised blessings ? Right here is the 
place for the making of new and genuine good resolutions ; 
and let us make them now, while we answer the last ques- 
tion which I wish to propose in this discourse. What are 
we to do with the Gospel ? 

First, we are to use and enjoy it ourselves : take it into 
our life ; make it a part of our very existence. If we do 
this, others will see its power and acknowledge its glory. 
^^Let your light so shine," says the Saviour; and no 
higher eulogy can ever be bestowed by one man upon an- 
other than the words of Martin Luther with regard to a 
humble Christian of his day, " What we preach, he lives." 

But more than this, we are to preach and teach the Gos- 
pel to others. This is a special part of our calling and it 
will not do to neglect it. The excuses we make for not 
doing this part of our work are pitiful. Peter and John, 
Philip and Paul, did not lack ability or opportunity to tell 
the story of the cross — nor ought we to admit any such 
lack. 

It is a sign of weakness or faithlessness if we do. Some- 
where, sometime, somehow, every one of us can do some- 
thing to increase men's love for the glorious Gospel of the 
blessed God. 

May I close now by repeating the Gospel invitation to 
you all once more ? 



S6 Sermons. 

^^ Come ! ye weary sinners ! come! 
All, who groan beneath your load; 
Jesus calls His wanderers home, 
Hasten to your pardoning God. 
Come, ye guilty souls oppressed ! 
Answer to the Saviour's call, 
Come, and I will give you rest ; 
Come, and I will save you all." 



Sermons. 8 7 



THE SELF-FORGETFULNESS OF LOVE. 

It is the nature of love to be forgetful of self. He who 
truly loves another does not wish to talk a great deal about 
it. The person loved is much in his thoughts, and be- 
comes a power in his life. But the fact of his love, the 
exercise of his affection, is not to be paraded before others. 
A love that is constantly asserting itself is insincere be- 
cause it is selfish. The two elder daughters of King Lear 
protest their regard for their father, in forced phrase and 
extravagant repititions ; while the younger, who alone 
really loves him, simply says : " What shall Cordelia do ? 
Love and be silent." 

Here is where Christian love often proves itself wanting. 
There are those who are fond of telling how much they 
love the Lord. It may be all true, but somehow there is 
something unpleasant about it. I think we naturally dis- 
like to hear such things. Love is disinterested. Its ob- 
ject, and not its subject, is what we want our attention 
called to. 

Some real disciples keep themselves unhappy by per- 
petually hunting for the evidences of their own love. 
They make the mistake of supposing that their own know- 
ledge of their love is as needful as the love itself. A 
Christian will sometimes say with a heavy sigh, " I would 
give anything if I could only know that my love for Christ 
is what I wish it to be. " Poor soul, think of Christ, not 



88 Sermons. 

of your own exercises. ^^ Love and be silent." If you 
wanted the sun to shine into your room on a cold day, you 
would not sit down gloomily and question yourself about 
your motives in wanting it. You would just open the 
blinds and let the blessed light in, and then simply enjoy 
it without once thinking whether you were happy or not. 

There are those who seem to spend their strength in 
trying to love the Lord. They do not see the truths of 
Christian life very clearly ; but they have a sincere desire 
to be Christ's and are willing to do all they can to become 
such. One of them says : ^^ I am trying as hard as I can 
to love the Saviour and I hope I shall have more light by 
and by." Such a one misses the mark by not looking 
directly to Christ in self- forgetful affection. What would 
you think of a little child sobbing and moaning on its 
mother's neck, '' I am trying hard to love you, mamma, 
but I am afraid I shall not succeed ? ' ' True love does not 
care for itself. Its whole attention is given to its object. 

Love to Christ finds employment. The believer has 
many things to think of, and all he does is for ChjHsf s 
sake. This is the one principle, unobtrusive and un- 
spoken, which underlies his every act. It is an established 
abiding principle, rarely asserting itself even in his own 
thoughts. He labors on for the good of others, uncon- 
scious of merit or desire for praise. Wilberforce was once 
asked if, in the abundance of his labors for his fellow men, 
he had kept his own soul pure. He replied, characteristic- 
ally and significantly, " I have been so full of care for 
these poor people that I forgot I had a soul." Here is a 
truer, richer type of piety than that of the Christian whose 
own love for Christ occupies a large place in his thoughts. 



Sermons, 89 

The Lord does, indeed, ask each of us the . question, 
" Lovest thou me ? " but he does not expect us to take a 
great deal of time for the answering of it. It should cost 
us no effort to say, ' ' Thou knowest that I love Thee. ' ' 
The happiest and best disciple is he who can look up and 
reply steadily and fervently, ^^ Of course, I love Thee," 
and then go back to his work freshened and strengthened 
by the interview. 



90 Serinons. 



THE CRITICISM OF THE UNGODLY. 

This is one of the ^^ All things" which work together 
for good to those who love God. People of the world 
know what a Christian ought to be. Every believer's life 
is an epistle known and read by all men. Of course the 
prejudices of the readers lead to exaggerations and errors in 
the reading ; yet, in the main, they know what to look for. 
They have a right to expect a clear manifestation of the 
Lord's spirit in the conduct of his disciples, and if they do 
not see this it is not unnatural or improper for them to ex- 
press their surprise. 

We ought to regard such criticism as a real help. In- 
stead of exciting impatience or anger it should spur every 
disciple on to new faithfulness. There are people who do 
not love the church, and yet do it good in this way. 
Their continual fault-finding keeps Christians on the alert 
against doing wrong things. A man of this class was once 
about to leave his home and move to another place, and 
he remarked to the pastor of the church that he presumed 
he would be glad to have him go. ^' No," said the minis- 
ter, " I am sorry to lose you, for you have been one of 
the most useful men in the town. Not one of my sheep 
could set a foot outside of the fold, but you would bark 
from one end of the parish to the other. Your services as 
a watch-dog have prevented much straying, and I fear your 
absence will open the way for an increase of that evil." 



Sermons. 



91 



There is a truth in this utterance which we ought not to 
overlook. The church needs guarding without, as well as 
within, and it would seem that the Lord has provided for 
this want by making use of that portion of society which 
does not care to serve Him and yet cannot let His cause 
alone. 

Of course there is another thought here. It is a pity 
that any should be so foolish. It is sad to see them cheat- 
ing their own souls of the good things of the Father's 
table and living on husks. And perhaps we can do some- 
thing to help them. It may be that wdth some of them 
there lies underneath the fault-finding exterior a real desire 
to become Christ's disciples themselves. Perhaps we can 
encourage such to trust in him. Perhaps by using our in- 
fluence wisely we can aid them in obeying his commands, 
including the command to number themselves with his 
visible foUow^ers. Would that every one of this class 
might be able to see how much better it is for himself to 
be known to the world as even a poor sheep than as a 
barking dog! 



92 Sermons. 



Ps. 107: 7. And He led them forth by the right way, 
that they 7night go to a city of habitation. 



The construction of this psalm is worth noticing. It 
consists of ^N^ parts, of which the subject mentioned in 
the first verse is the common theme. It might be spoken 
of musically as a beautiful air arranged with exquisite 
variations. It is a song of praise to Jehovah for His 
boundless mercy. Four historical scenes are described in 
illustration of this, each familiar to Hebrew minds, each 
having a power and pathos of its own. The first intro- 
duces the figure of the weary traveller bewildered in his 
way ; the second, that of the miserable captive groaning 
in his dungeon ; the third, that of the sick and dying 
man ; the fourth, that of the sailor overtaken by a storm. 
God's deliverance in each of these cases is the chief 
thought, and each description ends with an earnest ex- 
hortation to praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His 
wonderful works to the children of men. After these de- 
scriptions there follows the fifth part of the psalm, the final 
variation of the grand theme, which represents the experi- 
ence of the collected nations in their return to the land 
that God gives them. And then the closing sentences are 
a call to wisdom in looking into and understanding the 
things that have been said. 

The words of the text belong to the first part. Here 



f 



Sermons. 93 

the deliverance of Israel from Egypt furnishes the subject. 
The story is a familiar one. The people were sorely dis- 
tressed in the land of bondage. God had promised them 
the land of Canaan for a possession. In His own time 
and way He brought them out of their slavery into the full 
enjoyment of that goodly country. The details of the 
story are these. Jehovah Himself was their Leader. It 
was the chosen people who were led. Their destination 
was the promised land of plenty and rest. And the path 
by which He led them was the one which His infinite wis- 
dom marked out through the wilderness. The word right 
in this verse means straight ; and this gives us one of the 
principal thoughts of the passage. God's ways are always 
straight. They often appear very crooked to us ; but the 
reason for this lies in our diseased moral vision. God 
keeps everything straight. To His eye our pathway 
through this world is direct and clear, however it may 
seem to us. The road by which He led Israel from 
Egypt to Canaan was anything but straight to human view. 
From the Red Sea to Kadesh it was by no means the 
most direct path ; while from that point forward it seems 
terribly crooked. For forty years He led them thousands 
of miles through the rocky wilds of Arabia, when as many 
days of work and as many scores of miles of travel might 
have settled them comfortably in their promised inheritance. 
And yet ** He led them forth by the straight way, that 
they might go to a city of habitation." To our eyes the 
line of their journeyings, as we trace it on the map, looks 
like a strangely mixed up, zigzag thing, turning here and 
there, now curving this way and then darting that, a per- 
petual surprise and disappointment to our sight, often 



94 Sermons, 

crossing itself, sometimes facing the point where its end 
was to be, but as often changing its course. And yet, 
with all this right before our eyes, we are obliged to ac- 
knowledge that according to the perfect moral geometry of 
heaven, that same crooked path was the only straight 
course for the children of Israel from the scenes of their 
bondage to the land of their rest. 

What I wish to do in this discourse is to present the 
great truth of this passage, as it has reference to our 
own individual life. That truth may be stated thus : God 
leads every one of His children by the right way — by a 
straight path — through this world to heaven. There is a 
bondage worse than that of Pharoah from which we are 
trying to escape. There is a promised land richer than 
Canaan which we are striving to reach. And there is a 
wilderness more dreadful than that of stony Arabia through 
which we are passing. Our Leader is J ehovah, the same 
Almighty covenant keeper who led Israel ; and His love 
gives us equal tokens of favor along the way. He cannot 
approve the evil there is about us, and He sends us chas- 
tenings to take it away. These for the present are not 
joyous, but grievous : yet afterwards they yield the peace- 
able fruit of righteousness. And so it comes to pass that 
as we travel along we have two kinds of experiences, the 
bitter, and the sweet. There are Marahs and Taberahs ; 
there are also Elims and Horebs. We cannot see the way 
before us or behind us clearly. But each hour's march is 
made plain as it comes. And we are constrained to be- 
lieve that, however it may seem to our imperfect judg- 
ment, each step taken under God's direction is taken 
straight towards our heavenly home. He is preparing the 



Sermons. 95 

home for us, and He is preparing us for the home. And 
our way to the home is just as direct as ahnighty Love can 
make it. 

But we do not see it so. Sometimes w^e say we cannot. 
Something is the matter with our sight, and the way looks 
crooked and dismal. One trouble is that we w^ant to 
have our own way. Every human being has this charac- 
teristic, by whatever name it may be called. We naturally 
have the feeling that our own way is a little better for us 
than any other can be. Nothing but grace can modify 
this opinion, and its overcoming of our prejudice is grad- 
ual and slow. Even after we are convinced that God's 
way is the best for us, w^e often find it hard to yield, be- 
cause the old self-will has still as much strength. But this 
must be overcome : and our strivings must always be in 
this direction, that we may be able to see God's way of 
leading us to be the only right, straight way. The ab- 
surdities and tribulations into which his own will would 
lead him, if he were allowed to have it, can be guessed by 
any Christian as he reads the story of the children of Is- 
rael. If God had let them have their own way after cross- 
ing the Red Sea, we cannot say certainly what they would 
have done ; but we can safely say that their path would 
have been no less crooked than it was. Quite likely they 
would have blundered off into the land of Edom or Midian, 
and fallen an easy prey to their enemies. Perhaps, unable 
to agree among themselves, they would have remained in 
the rock-bound desert and perished. Or perhaps, rushing 
forward in headlong haste to enter the promised Und, 
they would have found themselves too weak to possess it, 
and so lost everything by their rashness. It is perfectly 



96 SermoJts. 

safe to say that we should do things no less absurd, if we 
were permitted to have our own way. Many a wayward 
disciple has thought to shorten his journey to Canaan by 
making some pretty plan of his own, and has learned in 
shame and repentance that there is no shorter road for him 
than that by which God leads him. 

Another trouble is that we want to see the whole of the 
way at once. We want to satisfy ourselves by our own 
eyes that it is straight. We persuade ourselves that it 
would be much easier to travel, if we could only see the 
road before us and know what is coming next. But that is 
not true. The impossibility of seeing the way before us is 
shown in the analogy of our outward life. You cannot 
travel from this town to the next without discovering it. 
And such knowledge would unfit us for the journey. Had 
the people of Israel foreseen their sufferings, they would 
have fainted at the outset. And had they forseen their 
privileges, they would have been enervated by unwhole- 
some anticipation. And the same would be true of us. 
Our pathway to the heavenly Canaan would seem no 
shorter or straighter, if we could see the whole of it. Step 
by step God leads us on. We cannot tell precisely how 
to-day's progress fits on to yesterday's, or how to-morrow's 
will fit to-day's. We cannot see the city of habitation to 
which we are going. Sometimes we cannot see a foot of 
the path that leads there. But we do know that God is 
leading us onward by the only straight road. And why is 
not this enough ? To know more would be no real help 
to us. 

We are hindered also by our natural shrinking from 
trial and suffering. In our dread of these we become 



/ 



Sermons. 



97 



blind to the directness of the way. It is not natural to 
love pain. Even grace cannot remove our dislike of it. 
But our religion teaches us to subordinate our desires to 
the dictates of infinite wisdom and be satisfied with facts 
as they are. Pain is in the world, and God makes it a 
means of good. One who loves God finds the world, the 
adversary, and his own natural self so opposed to the 
progress of his love that he experiences deeper suffering 
than others. Some old writer has quaintly said .of the 
people of God that '^ their trade of life is suffering." The 
emperor Julian said derisively to the Christians when they 
complained of his cruelty, ^^ It is your profession to endure 
tribulation. ' ' But their suffering is disciplinary : and God 
knows far better than we do how much discipline is needed 
to fit each of us for heaven. We must ever bear in mind 
the truth alluded to before, that not only is heaven pre- 
pared for us, but we must be prepared for heaven, or it 
cannot be to us the pleasant city of habitation which we 
anticipate. The burdens which God puts upon us here, be 
they greater or less, furnish this preparation ; and the more 
trustfully and cheerfully we bear them, the shorter seems 
the way. A little boy was once helping his father carry 
some books up stairs to the library. A friend standing by 
anxiously asked if he were not afraid of being loaded too 
heavily. " Oh, no," the boy replied, with a bright smile, 
' ' Father knows how much I can carry. ' ' 

Our impatience to secure rest and ease often becomes a 
hindrance. Probably this is one of the most common 
ways in which our natural selfishness exhibits itself. Even 
after we have learned the lesson of resignation, the desire 
for rest often asserts itself. The best of us are sometimes 



98 Sermons, 

surprised into indulging a longing to die and go to heaven 
in order to be free from care and pain. And such indul- 
gences, whether they are many or few, keep us from ap- 
preciating the beauty and straightness of the way. An 
impatient traveller cannot enjoy his journey very well. It 
is not wrong to think of our future rest with joyful antici- 
pations. But these must never be allowed to interfere 
with our contentment or resignation. And the danger is 
so great that it is much the safest way for most of us not to 
give these longings much indulgence. To covet heaven is 
to mar our work while we stay here, and to lessen our en- 
joyment of it when we come to possess it. 

Thus we fail to see that God is all the time leading us 
by the right way. Sometimes the road looks very crooked 
to us, as it did to the Israelites, And sometimes it seems 
very long and dark, too. The times are not few with some 
when it seems as though they must lie down by the road- 
side and die, because they cannot carry the burdens and 
bear the pains any longer. But it is not God's way to 
overwhelm His dear children and then leave them. Light 
and courage are sure to come back again. Here is a sen- 
tence from Miss Smiley, ^^That God should save us from 
the hands of one enemy to let us fall into the hands of an- 
other, is simply inconceivable to a childlike faith. ' ' God 
is leading us in His own right way ; and if that way lies 
through dark places. He does not suffer us to be destroyed. 
Before we quite despair He brings us out. The complaint, 
sharp and bitter, often rises from a tired heart : 

" The way is dark, my Father ! Cloud on cloud 
Is gathering thickly o'er my head, and loud 



Sei'mons. 99 

The thunders roar above me. See, I stand 

Like one bewildered ; Father take my hand, 

And through the gloom lead safely home Thy child." 

But the answer is ready : 

" The way is dark, my child, but leads to light : 
I would not always have thee walk by sight. 
My dealings now thou canst not understand. 
I meant it so ; but I will take thy hand, 
And through the gloom lead safely home my child." 

Again the complaint takes another form : 

" The way is long^ my Father ; and my soul 
Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal : 
While yet I journey through this weary land. 
Keep me from wandering. Father, take my hand, 
Quickly and straight lead to heaven's gate Thy child." 

But again the answer comes, tender and soothing : 

" The way is long, my child : but it shall be 
Not one step longer than is best for thee : 
And thou shalt know at last, when thou shalt stand 
Safe at the goal, how I did take thy hand, 
And quick and straight lead to heaven's gate, my child." 



So the assurance and the comfort come to us from the 
very theme that suggests our troubles. And now may 
I not be the bearer of this comfort to those before me who 
feel their need of it just now ? Here perhaps is a large- 
hearted, strong-handed Christian brother, who has hard, 
disagreeable duties to do in society, in business, or in the 
church. He shrinks from them and prays over them. 
And God takes him by the hand and leads him straight 



I oo Ser77tons. 

through every one of them with blessing and triumph. 
Here is a mother so pressed with cares and perplexities that 
she knows not which way to turn. Almost blindly she 
raises her hand to God. He takes it, and light shines. 
The straight way for her lies right through that nest of 
cares ; and as fast as strength is needed, it is given. Here 
among us is a Christian who has a special '' thorn in the 
flesh," a messenger of Satan, as it appears to him. It is a 
thing over which he has no control, and yet it seems to be 
drawing the very life blood from his heart. It is very 
hard to endure ; but God's straight way lies along beside 
it for awhile, and His grace hourly received is suffcient. 
Here is another who is continually misunderstood and 
misrepresented by his associates. He is learning, and he 
finds it a hard lesson, that the world knows us not because 
it knew not our Master. But help comes. God teaches 
while He leads him. And the comfort is that by and by 
we shall know and be known alike. Here is a widowed 
one, bewildered with suffering and thrown upon the mercy 
of a world which seems cold and heartless. The straight 
way for such a one lies across the deep ; and the Helper 
has said, ^^ When thou passest through the waters I will be 
with thee." 

Here is another overwhelmed for a time by a sudden 
calamity. He is being led in the right way, though for 
him it passes through a land of earthquakes ; and he is 
learning not to fear, though the earthquake be removed and 
the mountains shake, for God is his refuge and strength. 
Here is one more who is utterly at a loss to know what to 
do ; and his doubt and perplexity are so distressing that 
he greatly fears he is not being led at all. But that cannot 



Sermons. loi 

be so. God's hand never lets go, and perhaps the short- 
est path for him to heaven lies through swamps of fear and 
self-distrust. 

So the comfort comes. God leads us all in His own 
straight way. He takes into account our different tem- 
peraments and circumstances. He knows who are the 
strongest, and who are the weakest ones; and He dis- 
tributes the burdens and trials accordingly. Each of us 
has all he ought to bear, and no more. He also helps us 
take each step by itself. We are apt to think collectively 
of the weeks and months and years of toil and pain that 
are coming ; but He gently reproves us for our repinings, 
and bids us look only at each step by itself. To-morrow's 
work will not come till to-day's is over, and we need not 
worry about it till it comes. He enables us to bear the 
tribulaton of life in the same way, one at a time. Each 
sorrow has a w^eight and sharpness peculiar to itself. Days 
of trial and grief may come in rapid succession, but 
through them all there stands the promise, and its fulfill- 
ment is sure. ''As thy days, so shall thy strength be." 
And He helps us to trust. The confidence of faith in Him 
always brings ease and rest ; for it assures us that Avhat we 
cannot see and know is just as good for us as what we can 
see. The trust in God that keeps us cheerful and steady 
all the time is the crowning grace of Christian experience. 
To be perfectly satisfied that Another will secure our wel- 
fare without our personal oversight, is to climb into the 
very heights of faith. We cannot see any better than the 
people of Israel could why w^e are turned here and there ; 
why we are led away from one place and stopped at an- 
other ; why the path seems hedged up before us at times, 



I02 Sermons. 

and at other times several paths invite us ; why so much 
of our work appears to amount to nothing ; why the ad- 
versary is permitted to have so much power over us ; and a 
thousand other things that vex us day by day. But these 
troublesome whys vanish before the sweet and holy exer- 
cise of trust. God knows : He loves : and He certainly 
leads us. Pie gives us something to look forward to ; a 
city of habitation. Not of visitation. We are to do more 
than enter it for a day. It is a city to abide in. Not a 
city of inspection. We are not merely to look it over ; we 
are to stay in it forever. It is not a village or a town, but 
a city., well-built, populous, magnificent. All that a sancti- 
fied heart can desire is there, provided on purpose for our 
use by Him who is the Builder and Maker. 

And now with regard to this crooked straight way by 
which God leads us, we may say : 

First, that it is a safe way. The twenty-third psalm 
tells all that can be told of this ; ' ' He leadeth me beside 
the still waters." " He leadeth me in the paths of right- 
eousness for His name's sake." To be led in such places 
is blessed. It is safe to be anywhere with God. 

Secondly, that it is a sure way. Our city of habitation is 
a definite one, and we shall certainly arrive there. We 
might fail if left to ourselves; but under God's leading we 
cannot fail, for those who are thus led here are the ones of 
whom it is said in the vision of heavenly rest, '' The 
Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, 
and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters : and 
God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." 

Thirdly, that it is di pleasant wdij. Wisdom's ways are 
ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. If any 



Sermons. 103 

human being has the right to be happy and merry, it is he 
who is a Christian ; for he has the assurance that infinite 
Wisdom leads him every step of his way. The way then 
to ^^ Rejoice evermore " is to be contented with God's 
guidance and follow lovingly wherever He leads. 

" Thus far the Lord hath led us ; the promise has not failed ; 
The enemy encountered oft has never quite prevailed, 
The shield of faith has turned aside or quenched each fiery dart ; 
The Spirit's sword in weakest hands has forced him to depart. 

Thus far the Lord hath led us ; the waters have been high ; 
But yet in passing through them we felt that He was nigh : 
A very pleasant Helper in troubles we have found : 
His comforts most abounded when our sorrows did abound. 

Thus far the Lord hath led us ; our need hath been supplied ; 
And mercy has encompassed us about on every side : 
Still falls the daily manna, the pure rock fountains flow, 
And many flowers of love and hope along the wayside grow. 

Calmly we look behind us, on joys and sorrows past; 
We know that all is mercy now, and shall be well at last : 
Calmly we look before us ; we fear no future ill ; 
Enough for safety and for peace, if Thou art with us still." 



104 Sermons, 



'^HIDDEN MANNA/ ^ 

Christ made the manna a type of himself. ' ^ I am the 
bread of life. " ^^This is the bread which cometh down 
from heaven, that a man may eat thereof and not die." 
^^ My flesh is meat indeed." Christ Himself is the heavenly 
food given to satisfy our spiritual longings. There is one 
kind of food of beasts, another of sinners, another of 
saints. Beasts eat the husks of animal enjoyment. Sin- 
ners eat up the sin of God's people, and set their heart on 
their iniquity. Saints find the words of God and eat 
them. And Christ is the living Word of God. 

This bread is prepared and sent in the wisest way. It is 
put where men can easily get at it. Every one may eat 
who will. And there is enough of it for all. It is perfect 
in its adaptation. However the individual taste may have 
been perverted, the heavenly bread is just what any soul 
needs. 

Among the gifts promised to him who overcomes is this 
spiritual manna. Having conquered our earth-born incli- 
nations and put away our fleshly tastes, we shall be in a 
condition to appreciate it. We shall enjoy it in all its 
richness. To the redeemed in heaven Christ is everything. 
This is why it pays to go there ; why we rejoice over our 
friends who have gone before us. There is no want there. 
Every desire is satisfied. These longings that trouble us 
so now — to know our Lord more, to get nearer to Him, to 



Sermons. 105 

tell our love in a better way — will all be taken away. No 
annoyance or disturbance will be left. This fullness of 
heavenly satisfaction is to be yours and mine — if we over- 
come. 

But heaven is begun below. Christ is here as well as 
there. He came to earth to abide with men, and He is to 
be here as long as we are. It is only the beginning, but it 
is that. AVe shall never know Him in heaven if we do not 
know Him on earth, and this knowledge is the same in 
kind as that. Spiritual life needs the same support wher- 
ever it is lived. We are to have angels' food by-and-by ; 
we must eat it even here. 

It is hidden manna. Great is the mystery of godliness. 
The joy of communion with Christ cannot be told by 
those who have it, or understood by those who have it not. 
It can only assert itself in its own perfect way in the heart 
of the believer. His peace and delight increase with his 
faith and love. At times they fill his whole being. But 
words fail when he tries to tell them out. There is no 
speech nor language ; their voice cannot be heard. The 
Christian's richest experiences are as silent as the growing 
of the corn or the dawning of the day. Spiritual life is a 
marvel, a paradox, a mystery. Men of grosser tastes won- 
der at the Christian's strength and endurance. Like Israel, 
he is fed from above. He eats the bread of the mighty. 
His meat, like Christ's, is to do the will of Him that sent 
him. 



io6 Ser7nons. 



'^WITHIN THE VEIL." 

The Christian hope is sure and steadfast. The anchor 
catches firmly on the bottom and holds the ship secure. 
But this is not all. Another figure must tell the rest. The 
" veil " in the temple shuts out the most holy place and its 
contents from human touch aad sight. Whatever is there 
belongs to God alone. There the majesty and strength of 
the Almighty dwell. Now the Christian's hope enters 
within this veil, and is therefore fastened to that which is 
immovable and unchangeable. We need such a fastening 
for our safety. We want to be saved from perils within as 
well as without. We are sometimes in great danger by 
reason of our presumption and impatience, and we look 
to our Saviour's revelation for some help to meet this dan- 
ger. Here we find it. Put these two figures together, as 
the author probably intended we should do, and the lesson 
is a rich, sweet one. Many Christians in these days are 
persons of nervous temperament and intense feeling. 
Things often go wrong within and without. Cares, anxi- 
eties and heart-aches multiply, till our powers of endur- 
ance seem strained to their utmost tension. The flesh is 
weak, and once in a while there comes a breaking. Every- 
thing in the life seems to snap and fly in pieces. Reason 
for a time loses her sway, and faith is driven, silent and 
trembling, down to the lower recesses of the heart. The 
soul's welfare would be in extreme peril at such a time 



Sermons. 



107 



were it not for the divine care. It is likely enough that in 
one of these moments of reckless impatience, a Christian 
would seize the cable of his own hope, and, with an angry 
jerk, tear it away from its fastening if he could. But God 
has removed the possibility of this by carrying the anchor 
Himself beyond the veil and fixing it firmly there. No 
power on earth can pull it away. Even though in the de- 
lirium of such a fearful experience, the silver cord of 
earthly life be rashly severed, the life of the spirit cannot 
be destroyed. The anchor holds forever. The soul that 
belongs to Christ not only may be saved, but must be. 
And the provision which thus quietly and surely saves us 
from ourselves is perhaps the most wonderful manifestation 
of our Father's love to those who can appreciate it. 



io8 SefMons. 



John XV : 5. Apart from Me ye can do nothing. 

Phil, iv : 13. I can do all things in Him that strength- 



eneth 



me. 



The first of these sentences is the Saviour's assertion of 
the entire dependence of believers on Him ; the other is a 
believer's assertion of the greatness of his strength in 
Christ. The two together state the great principle of 
spiritual life in men. Each is the complement of the 
other. Without connection with Christ we are dead. Sin 
has killed us. Whatever we might have been, we are 
now, in our state of disobedience, like the branches of the 
vine cut off from the parent stem lying helpless on the 
earth. We have let go our hold on God, the one source of 
life, and are therefore dead in tresspasses and sins. Christ 
came to prepare the way for our re-union with God. This 
was the especial mission on which He came in His incar- 
nation. The simple condition of our restoration is faith 
in Him as our Redeemer. We may acknowledge God and 
attempt to hold communication with Him, but all such 
efforts are unavailing unless we accept the Lord Jesus 
Christ as our Advocate. It is presumption and impiety to 
seek intercourse with our Maker in any way but that of 
His own providing. He asserts that there is no access for 
men to Him except by the cross of Christ ; and Pie has 
set forth Christ and His cross on purpose that we might 



Sermons. 



109 



have such access. Belief in Christ and personal accept- 
ance of Him secure this blessing. We are thus united to 
God, and hence have Him for our support and help. The 
dead branch, taken up by divine power and joined to the 
vine by faith, has life again, and grows, and bears fruit to 
the honor of its Saviour. This fruit is produced in the 
actions which we put forth day by day. The believer is 
conscious of a power within him which is not his own. By 
it he does things that he would not think of doing without 
it. Every day of his life is filled with deeds and thoughts 
which would be impossible if he were alone. He gives his 
attention to matters of worldly interest, and goes through 
many forms of action which he would go through if it 
were otherwise with him ; but how different are his thoughts, 
how much more noble is his purpose, how much more re- 
fined are his desires ! He is strong in Christ, for he has 
infinite strength at his side. And as he grows in experi- 
ence he becomes stronger and stronger in Him. He 
seems to find that he may take all the strength he will, for 
Christ is infinite. It is not presumption to do this, for all 
else is given up for Christ. He has turned his back on self. 
Of course there is nothing but weakness behind, but before 
him there is everlasting strength, which is imparted to him 
according to his faith. Here is the true ^'dignity of 
human nature." Jesus Christ is the true God come down 
to us as the perfect man. United to Him we avail our- 
selves of the only opportunity to assert our manhood, at 
the same time that we become partakers of the divine 
nature. Hence it is not strange that the Christian, in the 
fullness of his power over sin and the flesh, exclaims, ^^I 
can do all things in Him that strengtheneth me." 



no Sermons. 

But what is meant by the term ^^all things?" Of 
course good sense and the limits of thought must fix its 
meaning as they do that of all our language. Natural im- 
possibilities are not meant. He who thinks he can fly to 
the moon, or raise a dead body to life, or walk on the 
water, in the strength of Christ, is not in his right mind. 
Doing wrong is not meant. The moment the Christian be- 
comes self-willed and egotistical he is remanded back to his 
weakness, like Samson in his sin. In planning our ways we 
are to consult our Lord's honor, not our own. If we 
undertake anything with a lower motive than this, we can- 
not expect His aid in accomplishing it. Hence everything 
wrong or selfish is excluded. These ^^all things" are 
merely what God would have us do ; and they include 
these four particulars : (i) All ordinary physical power. 
Everything that is right for us to do in dealing with the 
forces around us, we may expect Christ's aid in doing. In 
overcoming opposition, in making use of nature's ma- 
chinery, in conquering our own weariness and weakness, 
we have a right to succeed through Him. I believe this 
is the primary meaning of the promise, ' ' They that wait 
upon the Lord shall renew their strength." (2) All ordi- 
nary mental power. In the things which the mind is to 
do, as superior to the body. He helps us. Purposing, 
planning, inventing, influencing our friends, moving those 
opposed to us — in all these, if we acknow^ledge Him and 
seek His aid. He will direct us. (3) Special power in both 
physical and mental doings. We often find ourselves in 
situations of peculiar difficulty, demanding more than ordi- 
nary strength ; and at such times the Christian has the 
right to call confidently on his Saviour for the strength 



Sermons. 1 1 1 

which he needs. It may be a law of Nature that a man 
can, in an emergency, concentrate his power into one extra- 
ordinary and sometimes, seemingly, superhuman effort for 
his own welfare or that of others ; but if so, it is none the 
less a law of grace ; and grace, as the higher manifestation 
of the divine attributes, has the right to the precedence in 
our estimation of these unusual occurrences. I believe the 
man who trusts in Christ is more likely than he who does 
not to receive strength and wisdom in the hard places of 
life. I do not see anything illogical or unnatural in a 
Christian's looking up to God for special strength to leap 
over a chasm for the saving of his life, or in his asking 
heaven to direct his aim as he fires at the lion about to 
spring upon him, or in his seeking unwonted mental power 
for the accomplishment of a heavy task or for the gaining 
of influence over dangerous minds. I believe such prayers 
are answered oftentimes to an extent far beyond anything 
that nature can do alone. I believe Livingston, in Africa, 
and Garfield, before the New York mob, are illustrious ex- 
amples of this. And I believe that if all the affairs of 
everyday Christian life among us were made known with 
judgment-day exactness, this principle would appear in a 
clearer light than any of us dare state it at present. (4) 
Spritual power. This is the principal idea of the verses 
before us. The spiritual is designed to be the highest and 
the controlling department of our being, even as the eter- 
nal life which we have in Christ is primarily spiritual life. 
In Him we surely have power of this kind ; a power which 
brings out the loftiest deeds of heroism and devotion which 
the eyes of men ever behold. Though the believer is weak 
3,nd helpless alone, yet in the Saviour's strength he is 



112 Sermons, 

strong. It is an astonishing paradox, but a true one. 
Philosophy cannot explain it, but consciousness asserts its 
reality. The life-giving Spirit of the Lord enters into the 
existence of the man, and the result is what we call the 
Christian, a human being with all the weaknesses of human- 
ity, but with a spiritual power beyond that possessed by 
any other earthly thing. And since faith is what unites us 
to Christ, it becomes that through which strength is im- 
parted to us ; and therefore His words to one whose body 
He healed, are true with regard to the spiritual life of us 
all. ^^ According to your faith be it unto you." Some 
seem to have a larger amount of this life than others. 
Sometimes the difference is only a seeming one, but when 
it is real it is due to the difference in the strength of the 
faith. There are little Christians and great ones, poor be- 
lievers and rich ones, weak disciples and strong ones. It is 
humiliating to record the fact, when all might so easily be 
great, and rich, and strong; and it magnifies the Saviour's 
compassion and forbearance almost beyond belief. 

Let us look at some things which the Christian is able 
to do in the strength of Christ. In his own private life he 
can love and trust God. He knows well enough that by 
himself he does not and cannot do this. But the Spirit of 
God dwells within him. The strength of Christ supple- 
ments his own. And so he finds his heart going out in 
warm affection towards his Lord, to whom he clings con- 
tinually for support. Like the tender grape-vine, if left 
alone he would droop and wither on the ground ; but the 
tree offers itself for his bearing up ; to it he attaches him- 
self, and is thereby enabled to fulfill his mission of luxuri- 
ous and fruitful life. The tree is Christ, and the clinging 



Sermons. 113 

is faith. He can be cheerful and contented, too. We all 
know these are not natural traits of human character. 
Downcast looks and complaining words are common 
enough. But grace brings self-control and happy satisfac- 
tion. It is not impossible for us all to learn, with Paul, in 
whatever state we are therewith to be content. And he 
can endure trouble submissively and patiently. This is 
not an easy thing to do. In a state of being where there 
are so many conflicting interests there cannot be perfect 
harmony. Clashing brings pain, hence every one of us is 
sure to suffer more or less every day. But the fact of these 
conflicting interests is to be accounted for by wrong doing 
on our part. We have fallen out of tune with the key note 
of the universe, so that the result of our action is discord 
continually. Each of us is on a different key from all the 
rest because each acts primarily for himself. Morally the 
world of humanity is in a hopeless jangle if left to itself. 
Upon celestial beings who regard it with interest I think 
the effect must be nearly the same as that which would be 
produced on you, who have delicate musical perception, if 
each member of our choir were to begin at once and sing 
the first tune that came to mind, regardless of all the rest. 
What is needed to make sweet music is harmony of spirit 
and concert of action. This is the principle on which 
choirs and choruses base their existence. Each member 
submits his or her individual ability and taste to the others 
in a measure, sacrificing something for the sake of union. 
And that sacrifice is a real, deep pleasure, on account of 
the effect produced and the consciousness of helping to 
produce it. Our moral life is like this. Each of us is born 
with a bias towards self-seeking. We all wish to have our 



114 Sermons. 

own Avay, too, regardless of the rest. Society in fulfilling 
its mission demands sacrifice of every individual who be- 
longs to it. That sacrifice ought to be real pleasure to him 
who makes it, on account of the effect produced as a 
whole. And these are exactly the things which Christ 
came to teach and to manifest in His life. This self-denial 
is just what He makes His condition of discipleship. 
Therefore His is the system of ethics which will harmonize 
mankind. We need to be brought together, to give up the 
self-seeking to which each of us is addicted, to learn to act 
with some reference to those around us. Then we shall 
come into tune with each other. Christ's love furnishes 
the power for this, and actually brings it about. He lives 
in each of His followers, and the result is reached by di- 
recting the attention of each individual to Himself. As the 
choir needs a leader, so do we — some one to call the 
thoughts of all to Himself, some one worthy of imitation, 
some one who can thus achieve the desired result. And of 
course our Leader is Christ Himself. Of course those who 
follow Him easily harmonize with each other. And of 
course when all shall have learned to follow Him perfectly, 
the discord of the world will have passed away forever. 
Now all our troubles arise out of the sacrifice which we are 
required to make for securing the harmony of the universe ; 
hence the Christian can endure them patiently because he 
appreciates and desires that harmony. It is worth far more 
to him than the having of his own way. Our Leader is 
Christ, whose love is perfect and whose judgment is infalli- 
ble. Therefore anything He sends upon us is cheerfully 
borne. We endure, as seeing Him who is invisible. The 
trial of our faith, the discipline of our hearts, the languish- 



Sermons. 115 

ing of our bodies, the bereavement of our lives, and the 
desolation of our homes, all have a sweetness about them, 
for His sake, which makes them endurable and precious. 
Perhaps this experience does not come at once, for we are 
weak and human still ; but in the promised afterAvards the 
peaceable fruit of righteousness is sure to be seen and felt. 
'' Anything for Christ " is the sincere language of the be- 
liever's heart; and though his faith may be jarred from its 
pointing by some heavy shock, it will certainly recover it- 
self after awhile and return to the Saviour as faithfully as 
the needle to its pole. 

There are also things belonging to his connections with 
other men which the believer can do in Christ. He can 
influence others by his life. I do not think the power of a 
steady Christian life upon the world is ever over-rated. 
Those who are loudest in denouncing that which is spuri- 
ous in the conduct of professors of religion admit this, be- 
cause they must know that there can be no counterfeit 
unless there be first something genuine to be simulated. 
A true Christian life is a mighty force in any community, 
whether it is recognized at once or not. A person living 
such a life cannot hope to be without enemies, for there are 
always some who hate the Master. But he can and does 
command the respect of his acquaintances at large, and is 
trusted as no other man is trusted. Religiousness is natural 
to the human mind. We naturally distrust a man who 
claims to have no religion ; for if he is false to his Maker 
we do not know how he may treat us. And of course we 
despise the man who pretends to be right in his religion 
and yet gives no proof of his profession in his doings. 
But he who knows he is right in his religious faith, and 



1 1 6 * Sermons. 

lives his Tightness in his every day actions, is the man who 
quietly wins and keeps the confidence of others. And 
this is he who is in Christ. He cannot be wrong unless 
Christ is wrong ; he is not unsettled or insincere, for he 
has the Master's spirit. Deceit, dishonesty, and baseness 
are far removed from him. Find such a man and you have 
found a friend for life ; one who will not forsake, betray, 
or cheat you ; one who will bear with your faults and help 
you overcome them ; one who will walk faithfully by your 
side on the road to heaven, to whom you may give your 
heart and hand without reserve or fear. There are such 
persons in every place where the Gospel light has shone. 
Probably they are more numerous than many suppose, for 
we are almost always too uncharitable in our estimation of 
each other. And such a life has power among men. I 
was once told of a young man who was led to Christ, after 
resisting all other influences, by the remembrance of his 
father's quiet, steady Christian life; and I have no doubt 
that this is only one case of many. Perhaps the living of 
such a life is all that some fathers and mothers can do for 
their wayward children ; but if they do this they need not 
be without large hope. 

The Lord gives the Christian strength to influence 
others, too, in the special efforts which he puts forth for 
their spiritual welfare. Christian life has abounded in these 
from the apostle down to us. They are necessary to our 
own religious standing and growth. Natural ties of affec- 
tion and relation are thus brought into the service of 
Christ. Deeds, words, tears, which come from full hearts 
always carry effect with them. Our work is not in vain in 
the Lord, however much we may be disheartened by its ap- 



Sermons. 117 

parent failure. We cannot tell how it is ; but we know 
that no action of ours, sincerely performed in Christ's 
name, is without its result upon the world's welfare. The 
Christian also prevails with God, who inspires his prayers 
and answers them because He cannot deny Himself. The 
power of prayer, in heaven as well as on earth, is some- 
thing which we cannot measure. Those who are in Christ 
offer sincere and fervent petitions; He honors and en- 
dorses them ; consequently they prevail. It is not so 
much because we ask for what we want as because we ask 
for what the universe needs, that our prayers are heard. 
Narrow prejudices and selfish desires must be kept out of 
them, or they are rendered unworthy of notice. In order 
to pray aright we want that harmony with God and the 
universe of which I spoke before. This, Christ gives to 
those who believe in Him. Hence it is they who have 
power in heaven. All good things for the world are in 
Christ. Those men who are in sympathy with Him have 
their full share, and secure blessings to the rest of the 
world besides. Petitions offered in weakness by those who 
seem the feeblest of the saints are often worth more to 
those around them than fortunes of gold and silver. It is 
a great power that can connect earth with heaven by such 
a strong and well-used band. We build our iron tracks 
from city to city ; we float our ponderous ships upon the 
deep and send them from shore to shore ; and these carry 
the commerce and travel of busy nations. We stretch our 
wires across the country; we lay them in the ocean's 
depths ; and then we flash over them the news of events 
that take place, until, with the speed of lightning, it has 
traversed the circumference of the globe. Are these great 



1 1 8 Sermons. 

achievements? Do men begin to pride themselves on 
their ability thus to annihilate time and space ? Nay, this 
is nothing compared with what the soul in Christ can do. 
Yonder is a saint whom Jesus loves. She is poor in name 
and in this world's goods. But she can pray. Her heart 
is in harmony with things in heaven, and her desires are 
those of the Lord Himself. Yes, she can pray. Her peti- 
tions go up with the speed of thought through all the 
realms of space, past cherubim and seraphim on the wing, 
nor pause till they enter the ear of the Almighty on His 
throne ; and back at His bidding with the same amazing 
swiftness come answers of blessing for a weary world. 
Every soul that is in Christ can do this. No wonder the 
apostle felt strong in Him. No wonder when he thought 
of all these things he broke out in an irrepressible ecstacy 
of faith and power, ^^/can do all things in Him that 
strengtheneth me." 

And now with two practical remarks let us finish our 
study of this theme. First, we see here how the world is 
to be saved. God does not do His great works without 
the use of means. He*has promised the world's redemp- 
tion. And we find here how He is to bring it about. 
The power is all His own, but it is to accomplish His pur- 
pose through His human servants. Their faith as well as 
their number will increase, and their efficiency in doing 
good will increase correspondingly. Material treasures and 
natural forces will be made use of more and more for the 
one end of glorifying God. If without Christ there is no 
good in all these things, with Him there must be all good ; 
and His people will continue to see this and call everything 
to their aid with increasing enthusiasm. All progress is to 



I 



Sermons. 119 

be turned into Christian channels. Science is not to be 
doubted as the true handmaid of Religion. Philosophy 
will fully acknowledge her dependence on Revelation. 
Art will rise higher and higher in her escape from human 
baseness. And all that belongs to these will minister 
peacefully to Christianity. Language and printing will 
grow purer year by year. Astronomy, Geology, Chemistry, 
Surgery will become more and more refined. The micro- 
scope, telescope, and spectrum will be handled by holier 
hands. Railroads, telegraphs, and telephones will come to 
be ashamed of any but clean and honest usage. The laws 
of society are to be gradually modified so as to aim at this 
one object. Civil freedom will prevail and equal rights 
will be accorded more and more. The family will be 
rescued from the debasing clutch of sin. Parental, filial 
and conjugal love will be purified from selfishness and lust, 
and become real helps to the eternal unity of God's great 
family of grace. It is the mission of Christianity to bring 
about this happy condition of things. And when the 
lapsing of the centuries shall have brought the complete 
fulfillment of God's promise of redemption, it will surely 
come to pass. Men can do nothing apart from Christ, 
but in Him they can do all these things. 

The second remark is a personal one. Each of us may 
participate grandly in this work of the Lord. If Chris- 
tianity has a tendency to refine and save the world, its in- 
fluence on the individual soul of man is no less positive 
and sure. The human life portrayed in these two passages 
is that of the model Christian. He is weak in himself, 
but strong in Christ. And his strength in Christ lies, not 
in lamenting his own worthlessness, but in centreing every 



I20 Sermons, 

thought and action upon Christ, letting his whole being 
become filled and fragrant with His love. He is powerless 
for good alone ; yet in Christ he takes men along with 
him to heaven. He may seem unworthy of special regard 
or notice; yet in Christ he moves the Hand that guides 
the stars. My friends, are you one of these ? If not, why 
not? 



Sermons. 121 



CHRIST, OUR KING. 



A CHRISTMAS MEDITATION. 



Do we not sometimes overlook this office of our Saviour, 
or allow ourselves to think too lightly of the obligation 
under which it lays us ? There is a tendency in these days 
to bring everybody and everything to a common level. In 
a republic one man is supposed to be as good as another. 
Even in a monarchy the sovereign's power is becoming 
more and more limited by the will of the people. We 
may not find fault with this state of things. Probably it is 
all right as regards man's dealings with his fellow-men. 
But it may be that we unconsciously carry this habit of 
thinking over into our relation to Christ. There is all the 
more danger of this because in our study of the Gospel we 
dwell largely upon His humanity and kinship with our- 
selves. Nothing is more plainly taught in Messianic 
prophecy and in the records of Jesus' life than the fact that 
He is our King. He reigns in righteousness, and of the 
increase of His government there is to be no end. It is the 
throne that is established in mercy. It is the sceptre of His 
kingdom that is right. He is the King who comes in the 
name of Jehovah. It is well for us not to let this great 
truth be eclipsed. Christ is our Lord and King as well as 
Friend and Brother. How He sustains all these relations 
and satisfies all our longings we may not be able to com- 



12 2 Sermons. 

prehend, but such is the blessed fact. And we owe Him 
allegiance as well as friendship. We are not only to love 
but also to obey Him. If we love Him we do keep His 
commandments. 

We have need of this truth in all we do. We are certain 
to go wrong unless we keep it continually before us. In 
our religious work we are too much in the habit of putting 
the church in the place of Christ. For instance, we say 
that the welfare of the church demands this thing, or for- 
bids that. Such language is well enough if we keep the 
right idea uppermost. But we are too apt to make it 
secondary. What we want to know about any given matter 
is the mind of Christy not what the church seems to need 
or what its great men say. We forget to our sorrow that 
the church can bear any command which he lays upon it. 
We are only the ministers of the church ; its servants, not 
its keepers. Christ is its Head and our King. The timely 
and reverent remembrance of this would save us many an 
hour of perplexity, many a load of care, many a pang of 
pain. The government is on His shoulder. 

This truth is of great use also in the privacy of our indi- 
vidual Christian experience. By disregarding it many 
disciples miss the richest profit of their intercourse with 
the Saviour. They want His help, but they do not reach 
upward for it. They expect it too much as they expect aid 
from a neighbor. When a human being has a proper sense 
of his need he wants a divine helper. The soul claims the 
privilege not only of loving its Redeemer but of worship- 
ing him. Those who know Him best reverence Him most. 
Continued experience heightens the desire to worship. 
The disciple who leaned on Jesus' breast at the supper, 



'^ 



Sermons. 123 

afterwards fell at His feet in an ecstasy of awe. Thomas, ' 
as soon as the full light of the Messiahship shone into His 
mind, exclaimed, ^^My Lord and my God." These are 
the expressions of the deepest, ripest Christian experience. 
And ours are similar to them. He is not an advanced 
Christian who talks only of the brotherhood of Christ. 
He may be a true disciple, but he has yet much to learn. 
When we see our Saviour as He is, we shall count it our 
highest honor to bow down before him and cast our crowns 
(if we have any) at his feet. Read the book of Revela- 
tion carefully and see how the saints in heaven regard 
Him. What is needed by Christians in these days of 
luxury and multiplied duties is a deeper sense of their own 
need and an added realization of Christ's power to save 
from deadly evil. He who, struggling in deep waters, 
has caught sight of Jesus and cried out ''Lord, save ; I 
perish ! ' ' can not be afraid or ashamed to worship him as 
his King. May this Christmas season be blessed to us all 
in bringing us new knowledge of our Saviour, and there- 
fore awakening new desires to worship and obey Him. 



CHILDREN'S SERMONS 



/ 



Children's Sermons, 127 



Deut. v: 32. 1. c. Ye shall not turn aside to the right hand 
or to the left. 

Did you ever see a carriage wheel wabble ? This sub- 
ject was brought to my mind by one which I saw on the 
street the other day. I suppose the axle had become worn 
so that the box of the wheel was a little too large for it ; 
and so as the wagon passed along, the wheel went wabbling 
from one side to the other in a very ridiculous manner, and 
its track was anything but a straight one. When I saw it, 
I said to myself, '^ That is just like some people." 

We were all made to go straight like carriage wheels ; to 
be of some use in the world ; to know our place and go 
right along in it quietly and smoothly, and leave a straight 
track behind us ; to carry our burdens safely ; to make 
others happy and command the respect of all who see us. 
But a good many people do not do this. They seem to 
forget what they are here for. They have no good idea of 
what they are to do, or no wish to do it. Something is the 
matter with them. It may be one thing, or it may be an- 
other. But in some way they get loose in their place and 
go wabbling along in a very uncomfortable manner. 

The things that occasion this are a great many. Some- 
times we are too anxious to have our own way in little 
matters, and show our displeasure by refusing to go straight. 
Sometimes we think other people don't care enough about 
us, and feel called upon to show our importance by 
making some sort of a crooked path. Sometimes we turn 



128 Children's Sermons. 

one side and the other from sheer love of oddity, wishing 
to do something that other people do not do. Sometimes 
we get tired and out of temper ; sometimes we want to be 
contrary ; sometimes being asked to do a favor strikes us 
in the wrong way ; sometimes we envy others for the good 
things they have. In one of these ways we often leave the 
straight path in which we ought to go. We do not dare 
to stop going. Perhaps it would be more dignified and 
less troublesome if we would. But we are afraid to do 
that. And so we show our one-sidedness by wabbling. 
Probably we all do it more or less. But those who do it 
least are the best and most useful people ; and we all ought 
to try hard to be such. 

The effects of wabbling are very unpleasant. Those who 
do it lose the confidence of others, as well as their own 
self-respect. They give a teetering motion to everything 
they carry or touch, which makes it seem unsafe to go near 
them. And they leave a crooked track behind them which 
makes all who notice it laugh or sneer. 

The remedy for all this is to be as God says ; to control 
ourselves and live for Him. He has given us such rules 
as we need, and if we observe them we shall be able to 
keep a straight clean course in the road of life, doing our 
work and carrying our burdens well, without disturbing 
others or calling undue attention to ourselves. This is 
what we are here for. I hope you will all try to do this. 
Mind the rules God has given us, and go straight, remem- 
bering that His help can be had at any moment. What- 
ever happens, don't wabble ; but keep right on with quiet- 
ness and self-possession, turning neither to the right hand 
nor to the left. 



Children! s Sermons, 



Ps. li : 10. Create in me a clean hearty O God, 

I HEARD a person say the other day that it seems as 
though the great work of life is to keep clean, and I don't 
know but it is true. There are a great many kinds of dirt ; 
and there is always some kind that we need to get rid of 
in order to be clean. We have our " Washing-day " every 
week to keep our clothes clean ; and about our homes we 
are always careful to put all the dirt we can out of the way. 
We need to take a great deal of care about washing our 
hands and faces often, and doing a great many other little 
things to keep ourselves neat and pure, so that other people 
will like us and we may do them good. Those who neglect 
these things are disliked ; for to be clean is one of the 
rules God has laid upon us ; and it is not a hard rule to 
keep, since He has given us plenty of pure water. The 
missionaries who have gone to heathen countries have 
sometimes told us that the first sign they see that the Gos- 
pel is taking effect, is that the people begin to wash their 
faces. 

Now our hearts need to be kept clean, as well as our 
bodies. You know what the heart or soul is. It is that 
part of us which thinks, and feels, and acts. Thinking 
good thoughts and doing right acts is what would keep our 
souls clean. But we don't do this. It is very easy for us 
to have bad thoughts and do wrong things ; and we have 
all had so many of these that our hearts are very dirty and 



130 ChildretH s Sermons. 

bad. So if we have any wish to make them clean, what 
can we do ? You cannot wash your heart yourself, as you 
do your face and hands ; for, like the real heart that beats 
in your breast, it is where you cannot get at it. And you 
cannot throw it aside and get a new one, as you can do 
when you soil your writing book at school, for it is the 
only one you ever had or can have. One person never has 
but one heart or mind. So what can you do with this bad 
heart? God can cleanse it for you. He can do every- 
thing ; and He has a way of cleansing our hearts that is 
very thorough and pleasant. So all you can do is to give 
your heart to Him, and let Him cleanse it for you.' I 
think this is what He means when He says to each of us, 
^' My son, give me thine heart." He knows it needs 
cleansing, and He knows no one but Himself can cleanse 
it. Is not this just the right prayer for you and me to offer, 
then, '' Create in me a clean heart, O God." 



Children's Sermons. 131 



Luke X : 42. /. <f. One thing is needftcL 

Mary sat at Jesus' feet and heard His word ; and Jesus 
said she had chosen the good part which should not be 
taken away from her. She had taken the one thing that 
we all need to make us holy and happy. 

We think a great many things are needful. We need 
clothes and food. W^e need fire and water and air. We 
say we cannot live without these things, and we are right 
in thinking so. But the soul's life is worth a great deal 
more than the body's life; and there are things needful 
there, too. There can be no life without the means of 
living. A rose bush or a tree must have water and air or 
it will die. Our bodies must have food or they will die. 
So, too, our souls must have their means of living, or they 
will die ; and this is the worst death of all. This verse 
teaches that Jesus furnishes just the things that our souls 
need in order to keep up their life and growth. You know 
how He came into the world, became a man, and lived 
and died for us. By this He gives us life and the means 
of living. When we believe on Him we became joined to 
Him, so that, though we should be dead without Him, we 
now have His life in us. And the way to keep up that life 
is to keep learning of Him. This is the one thing need- 
ful, then. This is why Mary was so blessed when she sat 
at His feet and heard His word. Can we be blessed in 
the same way ? Yes, for He comes to us to-day as truly 



132 Children' s Sermons. 

as He came to Bethany ; and He visits our houses and in- 
vites us all to hear and believe Him. 

What effect does it have on us to take this one thing 
needful, do you ask? 

In the first place, it makes us acquainted with Jesus. It 
is considered a great thing to be acquainted with famous 
people. I read awhile ago of a man who thought the prin- 
cipal thing about his life was the fact that he had seen the 
Queen of England. But how much more profitable it 
must be to know Jesus Christ, the glorious King of heaven 
and earth ! 

Again, it gives us peace and happiness. We are so 
made that we get our happiness mostly by our relations to 
other beings. In our state of sin those relations are 
spoiled, and our happiness is therefore lost. But Jesus 
brings us back to the last place, and gives us peace of 
mind. For we have peace with Him, and therefore we 
have enjoyment in each other's society. 

And once more, it makes us holy. Jesus forgives us 
and draws us to Himself. We always like the people with 
whom we associate. If you go with a bad boy or girl, you 
will be made worse by it ; but if your mates are good, you 
will grow good by being with them. So when Jesus draws 
us to Himself, we become like Him ; and that is just the 
blessing we want. 

Now, let us all choose this good part, this one thing 
needful. Jesus offers it to us ; and it is ahvays safe and 
blessed to do as He wishes us to do. 



AN ESSAY 



) 



\ 



THE USES OF AFFLICTION. 

We are continually reminded that this is a world of 
trouble ; that tears, grief, sorrow, pain, are among the 
common words of life. We chafe sometimes at the telling 
of the old story, but we acknowledge the fact and ask why 
it must be so. The Bible gives the answer. Let me select 
one of its figures as a sort of text for this essay, one which 
seems increasingly beautiful to me with the lapse of years. 
Christ is the Refiner and Purifier of silver, and the silver is 
human life. In His heavenly temple God can use none 
but the purest metal. The silver must be the finest and 
choicest. And because sin has debased us, we who are His 
silver must pass through His refining process in order to be 
made fit for His permanent, perfect service. The Refiner 
has come, and we are already under His care. Body and 
soul are His, and both are to be purified. Some of us 
need one thing, and some another ; but He knows us all 
and makes no mistakes. The alloy to be taken out of us 
varies with our characters and temperaments. Yours may 
be self-will, covetousness, indolence, frivolity, impatience, 
envy ; mine may be selfishness in some other guise. But it 
is in us all. And there is no way to be rid of it but to 
have it melted out. The good and the evil in us are so 
firmly united that any other process would fail to separate 
them. So the Refiner takes us in hand. The furnace 
heat is applied. We feel it every day. Now it burns so 



136 An Essay. 

hard that we cannot help crying out with the pain ; now 
its fierceness is abated, and we laugh with relief and easily 
give ourselves to the tasks and enjoyments of our wordly 
life. But it is there all the time ; and the older we grow, 
the more settled our consciousness of its presence becomes. 
A twinge of pain, a night of illness, a business disappoint- 
ment, the loss of property, the estrangement of a friend, 
the death of a loved one — such things as these perpetually 
remind us that we are in the furnace. We cannot forget it 
if we would ; and our happiness depends entirely on the 
spirit with which we accept the situation. It is not natural 
to desire suffering, or to enjoy pain. So the happiness 
must consist in overcoming nature. And this grace en- 
ables us to do. There is a peace of conscience, a joy of 
the heart, a rest of the soul, which is not affected by suffer- 
ing. Faith gives it. Union with Christ assures it. Near- 
ness to God confirms it. And suffering under the care of 
Christ brings us into the experience of it. So, though you 
may be the weakest of His disciples, you need not com- 
plain or cringe when He turns His hand upon you, for He 
does it only that He may purely purge away your dross, 
that He may refine you as silver is refined. 

The question is often asked. How does suffering purify 
us ? I do not know that anyone in this world can give the 
whole of the answer. The Saviour Himself is asked many 
questions to which the only possible answer is, ' ' What I do 
thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter ; ' ' 
and it is well that our satisfaction about such things is pro- 
portioned to our faith. But a few partial answers can be 
given. In the first place, suffering shows us the folly of 
trying to find permanent happiness in this world. It seems 



An Essay. 137 

strange that any persons of discernment or experience 
should need to learn this, the fact is so plainly to be read 
in the very nature of things. But many who are called 
shrewd or wise by their fellow men are foolish before God. 
And probably very few would profit by their knowledge of 
the shortness of life, were it not for the ministry of pain. 
Our life in this world was never designed to satisfy the 
longings of our immortal souls. There is nothing here that 
can do so. But the best of us are so short-sighted and 
weak, not to say heedless and selfish, as to forget all that 
and become absorbed in the pleasures of the hour, as 
though no such thing as change could ever occur. But 
when we suffer, our eyes are opened to the true condition 
of affairs. We see that though there are many beautiful 
things around us, they cannot stay long enough to afford, 
or we to obtain, any lasting gratification. A sick man 
looks at the perils and possibilities of life differently from a 
well man. Probably many of us would never learn to look 
upward, did not some power that cannot be resisted lay us 
on our backs. God never designed that we should be sat- 
isfied with what we find here. We are bound for the 
Celestial City ; and suffering is the spur with which He 
mercifully goads us on when we would lie down and sleep 
in the enchanted ground. 

In the second place, it takes away our self-importance 
and inclines us more and more to rely on God. I think 
you must have noticed that with many a human being the 
centre of all things seems to be himself. Of course there is 
something absurd about it, for a solar system cannot have 
as many centres as it has planets. But it is a conceit which 
habitual wrong-doing has put into us, and which the mere 



138 An Essay. 

presence of grace in our hearts does not wholly remove. 
It is to be removed gradually by discipline. And while 
some seem to need more severe training than others, we all 
need it to some extent. Suffering chastens our self-love by 
showing us our weakness, dependence, and insignificance ; 
and when once we have learned the blessedness of trusting 
in God, it leads us at the same time to lean harder and 
harder upon Him. The little child whom you take out in 
the street or field with you is at first very ambitious to walk 
everywhere without your help ; but after a few falls and 
hurts it comes to your arms willing to be carried, much to 
your own delight. While Jacob had strength he wrestled 
hard ; but when his back was broken by the angel's touch, 
he simply clung ; and it was not till then that he prevailed. 
God loves to have us cling to Him, and suffering is what 
makes us see that we must do so. 

In the third place, it softens our hearts towards each 
other. It is one of our natural tendencies to be uncharita- 
ble and critical in our regard of one another. But I pre- 
sume you have noticed how readily this tendency yields or 
vanishes in the presence of great sorrows. Near relatives, 
alienated for years, have met and become reconciled at the 
death-bed or the grave of a common friend. You know 
how much easier it is to think well of an enemy when he is 
in trouble, and how impossible you find it in your own 
grief to wish anybody evil. Those who have suffered alike 
are always drawn together in a peculiar manner. The 
hearts of such speak to each other through the hands and 
eyes, as they cannot do under any other circumstances. 
*^ A fellow feeling makes one wondrous kind ; " and dif- 
ferences, if there have been any, dissolve like the summer 



r 



An Essay. 139 

evening clouds in the twilight of mutual sorrow. Our best 
love for one another in any of our relations is brought out 
by sympathy in suffering. And those who have had the 
largest Christian experience say that it is worth while to 
have that love developed at any cost. 

So much we may say about the way in which we are 
purified by suffering. And a life thus purified is the only 
kind of life which it pays to live in this world. Notice if 
you will those who have had but little to endure. As a 
rule you will find their hearts cold and small. They will 
always be magnifying their trials and telling you how much 
they suffer. They do but little for the world. And their 
love for God, if they have it, runs in exceedingly narrow, 
shallow channels. Notice too, those who have suffered 
without being willing to be purified ; whose affliction, to 
use an old-fashioned but expressive word, is unsanctified. 
Their stoicism does not recommend them to your esteem. 
Their selfish lamentations or seclusion of themselves does 
not win your love. You pity them, and wish with all 
your heart that you could comfort them. But you do not 
call either of these classes the best or most useful people in 
the world. You do not care to be like them. For imita- 
tion you prefer those whose hearts, already ruled by grace, 
have by the special gift of God been softened, broadened, 
deepened by their sorrows; those who love Christ and 
their fellow-men more, the more they suffer themselves ; 
those who are continually saying to themselves in effect : 

*' Go, bury thy sorrow, 
Let others be blest ; 
Go, give them the sunshine, 
Tell Jesus the rest." 



I40 An Essay. 

We must not fail to observe with especial care who the 
Refiner of silver is. It is Christ our Mediator and Saviour. 
It is He who is present in all the sufferings of His people. 
It was not imagination that revealed Him to Stephen as he 
was being killed. It was not all imagination that gave to 
some of the other Christian martyrs the sense of a divine 
Personage standing by their side, re-assuring their tried 
spirits and strengthening their tortured bodies. The Lord 
was with them literally and truly. He Himself as a Son 
learned obedience by the things which He suffered, and as 
the Captain of our salvation was made perfect through suf- 
ferings. Hence He knows just what each of us needs, and 
has full sympathy with us in all our woes. His object in 
afflicting us is to perfect us in Him, to perfect His image 
in us. We read that the human refiner of literal silver 
knows that the process is complete when he can see his 
face reflected in the shining mass which he has been watch- 
ing ; and this illustrates beautifully the use of our afflic- 
tions under the watchful eye of our Lord. He will stop 
the heat soon enough. It cannot burn out too much, for 
His own mind and hand are attending to it. How much 
of blessing and delight there is in knowing this ! What a 
comfort it is when we are tired of work, pressed with care, 
and just ready to give up ! What good cheer it brings to 
those who have lost much and feel homeless and friendless 
in the world ! And what rest is here for those who de- 
plore the increasing infirmities of age, and regretfully lay by 
from time to time this and that which they have been ac- 
customed to enjoy or do ! And what a priceless boon is 
here for those who suffer from disease each day and night 
more pain than they can tell, or who find themselves in 



I 



An Essay. 141 

that nameless physical condition which is neither sickness 
nor health, impelled to work, and yet doing it so wearily 
and doubtingly ! And how sustaining it is to those who 
mourn the loss of friends ! To those who have long 
watched the ebbing life of a dear one, and felt the strange 
alternations of hope and fear to the very last, and then 
plunged into the depths of a grief made tenfold more pain- 
ful by the long borne suspense, the Saviour's ministering 
sympathy brings a sweeter peace than can be told. And 
that dear friend of the Lord who has been stricken 
by a sudden terrific blow which seemed for a time 
to paralyze the heart and blast the life — such an one, 
on recovering from the stunning, found Christ at his 
side holding him up, and He has been there ever since. 
He does care tenderly for us all. He puts us in the 
furnace. He must do so in order to make us what 
we want to be. But He watches us all the time. He 
tempers the heat, and withdraws it when we are suffi- 
ciently refined to be of the highest use in His heavenly 
home. 

Let us learn these lessons from this study, i. We 
ought to be thankful that our Lord considers us of sufficient 
value to Him to be worth purifying. Sometimes silver ore 
is thrown away, because there is not enough of the precious 
metal in it to pay for the process of refining. Here is a 
suggestive thought in the application of our figure. If our 
self-respect is disinterested, as it ought to be, we are able to 
look beyond the present pain at the end to be accomplished 
in our discipline. The last clause of the verse in Malachi 
tells it. " That they may offer unto the Lord an offering 
of righteousness." Our God must have a pure, clean 



142 An Essay. 

offering ; and it is better to be purified for Him at any 
cost of suffering than to be thrown away. 

2. The Christian's sufferings are a matter of real rejoic- 
ing. All things work together for his good ; consequently 
he counts it all joy, even when he is afflicted ; for under 
the great Refiner's loving care, troubles actually become 
transfigured into enjoyments. The world stares incredul- 
ously at such an assertion, but he who is intimate with 
Christ knows that it is true. 

3. The purifying process will have an end. Nothing 
can be more certain. From the nature of the case it can- 
not last many years. When God beg'ins a thing, He al- 
ways finishes it. What is to come after the process is 
completed, we do not know fully ; but it is safe to trust 
Him. It is enough to know that we shall be all right and 
perfectly pure forever. The pure in heart are blessed, 
for they see God. Could human language express more of 
blessedness than this? 

4. The deliberation and calmness of the great Refiner 
should teach us patience. He never makes a mistake and 
is never in a hurry. With Him there is no confusion, 
no agitation, none of the bustle of change and fear which 
we know. He sits (so we are told) in the serenest tender- 
ness and watches the furnace while it does its work. The 
molten silver rolls and bubbles till its refining is com- 
pleted. , But when the last grain of impurity is thrown off, 
it settles down in restful, shining stillness. The sweetest 
and sublimest experience to which the Christian attains on 
earth, is that which comes when he can appreciate and re- 
spond to the gentle whisper from above; ^' Be still — be 
still — and know that I am God." 



» 



POEMS 



WAIT AND SEE. 

When my boy with his eager questions, 

The hows and the whens and the wheres, 
Inquires the causes and reasons 

Of things far beyond his years, 
Knowing well that I cannot explain them, 

Though plain they may seem to me. 
To teach him a lesson of patience 

I tell him to wait and see. 

And with solemn and beautiful meaning 

The lesson comes back to me ; 
With regard to what lies in the future 

I've only to wait and see. 
We are nothing but restless children 

Always asking what is to be ; 
And our Father in gentle wisdom 

Is bidding us wait and see. 

So in grief, or in gloom, or in sorrow, 

Whatever the future may be, 
We certainly ought to be willing 

To patiently wait and see. 
With the crowns and the harps and the mansions 

In store for such sinners as we. 
With the promise of Heaven we surely 

Can afford to wait and see. 



1 46 Poems. 

IN AN AUTOGRAPH ALBUM. 

As echo, lost in wild retreats 
Its plaintive murmer still repeats, 
While the parent note that gave it breath 
Is gone forever, hushed in death ; — 
So, though to-morrow blights to-day 
And cherished loved ones pass away. 
These tokens, gems of holiest art, 
Shall cluster round and cheer the heart. 

When fancy oft by memory led 
Shall wake to life the sainted dead. 
And, sorrowing o*er those gone before 
Shall sigh regret for days of yore ; 
Let these mementoes then remind 
That friendship true no grave can find ; 
Though earthly ties may soon be riven 
True love can only end with Heaven. 



A CENTENNIAL POEM. 
1877. 

A matron honored and loved by us all, 
Of stately and winning way ; 

A mother in God's own family 
Has called us together to-day. 



Foems. 147 

From hill and from valley, from far and from near, 

At her call we gladly come, 
Content with the welcome we always receive 

In her beautiful mountain home. 

We bring to our hostess centennial gifts, 

Not of gems, nor of silver and gold ; 
But of holy friendship and sympathy. 

And wishes that cannot be told ; 
We come to mingle our hearts with hers, 

To rejoice with her, and to hear 
A century's story of sunshine and storm 

Of Faith, of Hope and of cheer. 

For a hundred years of blessed life 

From the Father of life above ; 
For a hundred years of the Saviour's care, 

And patient, tender love ; 
For a hundred years of Gospel work, 

We come to help her raise 
A monument to His faithfulness, 

A tribute of grateful praise. 

His justice is like the mountains great. 

His mercy is in the heaven ; 
His faithfulness reaches unto the clouds. 

Whence blessing and grace are given. 
She praises the name of the Lord to-day 

For the wisdom that cannot err, 
For the love which, during these scores of years. 

Has never forgotten her. 



148 



The stars may fall from their place in the sky, 

And the sun forever set ; 
The mother in woe may forsake her child, 

But Jesus can never forget. 
The cruel nails that pierced His flesh. 

Whence flowed the atoning stream, 
Have graven forever upon His hands 

The church He died to redeem. 

To this matron of years, it is given to-day 

With solemn delight to record 
The enduring, unchanging faithfulness 

Of her heavenly Master and Lord. 
By His help she has conquered many a foe. 

Full many a struggle has gained ; 
Has passed through the waters without a hurt 

And gone through the fire unstained. 

For the peaceable fruit of righteousness 

He has tried and chastened her sore ; 
At times has allowed her to seem beset 

With troubles behind and before. 
But the kindness of everlasting love 

Has not forsaken her quite, 
And the pillar of cloud for guidance given 

Has never withdrawn from her sight. 

Of perils often by friend and foe. 

He has led her through many a strait, 

And her house, while the years have rolled away, 
Has never been desolate. 



Poems, 

By His strengthening grace He has made her sons 
Like plants grown large in their youth, 

And her daughters polished corner-stones 
In temples of virtue and truth. 

He has bidden her tell of a Saviour's love, 

And given her power to win 
Full many a mortal here and there 

From the blight and bondage of sin. 
She has told the message far and wide 

Of the Gospel rich and free ; 
The plain and the desert have heard her voice, 

And the far-off isles of the sea. 

But perhaps her greatest work must be told 

By the graveyard over the way, 
Where the fathers and mothers of many of us 

Lie waiting the dawn of day. 
Would you hear this part of the story again ? 

Go, visit the place of their rest. 
And list to the Spirit's whisper soft, 
'' Who die in the Lord are blest.'* 

Let us learn from these memorial scenes 

New Trust in our Infinite Friend ; 
He has promised to guard and prosper His church. 

And is faithful unto the end. 
Though the toil seems hard and the waiting vain. 

The Saviour, who gives the command. 
Still walks in the midst of the candlesticks 

And holds the stars in His hand. 



[49 



I 



150 Poems, 

WISHES FOR OUR FRIENDS AT THEIR 
SILVER WEDDING. 

May the day be a fair one, 

The visit a rare one, 
And you be duly *' surprised ; " 

May every one present 

Be happy and pleasant 
And joy be undisguised. 

May the butler, the baker, 

The candlestick-maker 
And all the old friends be there ; 

May Tom, Dick, and Harry 

Bring all they can carry 
Of silver gifts, pretty and rare. 

May the parson be ready 

With firm hand and steady 
To tie you together once more ; 

May the stars be propitious. 

The viands delicious. 
And fit for a king to devour. 

May your future be gladdened 

And not at all saddened 
By this era with memories fraught ; 

May life become brighter 

And troubles grow lighter 
For the blessings this day has brought. 

May these gifts be prophetic 
Of times energetic 



Poems. 

When the tide of success shall flow ; 

May the days of resumption 
Give business new '' gumption " 
And silver be plenty as snow. 

May you live, still possessing 

Each coveted blessing, 
And your golden wedding behold ; 

With hopes growing surer 

And lives growing purer 
Through the Wisdom that's better than gold. 

May the Father who loves us, 

Who graciously proves us, 
And purges the silver from dross. 

Stand ever beside you 

And tenderly guide you 
The crown outshining the cross. 

And when at life's ending 

The angel descending 
Shall loosen the silver cord ; 

With garments of brightness 

Of silvery whiteness 
May you enter the joy of our Lord. 



151 



ON A GOLDEN WEDDING. 

*Tis a wedding day, that time of joy. 
When friendly hands find sweet employ ; 



152 



•Poems, 

When loving lips say tender things, 
And every soul in gladness sings — 
That fateful time to a human heart, 
When it drops forever its single part, 
And blends with another in tuneful song, 
Each by the other made steady and strong — 
That happy time when two became one. 
When the looked-for deed is solemnly done. 
And the crowning joy of a lifetime is won ; 
When with hope that brightens all things anew 
The promise is made to be faithful and true — 
That blessed time of all good times. 
When the air is full of melodious chimes ; 
When the notes of bells with mirth aglow, 
Proclaim the good wishes of friends below, 
And ethereal bells in the sky above 
Ring out the angel's sanctioning love; 
When best of all the blessings sent 
Is God's own smile on the glad event. 
'Tis such a day, and in nuptial bowers 
Are certain well-known friends of ours. 
'Tis early Autumn, and the date 
Is eighteen-hundred and thirty-eight. 
Among the friends who grace the feast, 
Whose friendly gifts are not the least, 
Are some unseen by mortal sight, 
A group of fairy spirits bright ; 
Those beings who to flesh and sense 
Mete out the blessings of Providence. 
They gaze with interest on the scene. 
And tarry still with favoring mien. 



Poems. 153 

They hear the words of each friendly guest, 

Congratulations well expressed, 

Fond hopes and wishes told with zest. 

They hear, and ask each other there 
'' What shall we give the happy pair ? " 

They speak of the blessings which they know 

Are put within their power to bestow, 

And ponder well which best will do 

To last these friends their lifetime through. 

And make them happy and useful too. 

They can give riches, honor, fame, 

A brilliant career and a splendid name ; 

They can give leisure, luxury, ease. 

Health, strength and influence, all they please ; 

But there are better gifts than these. 
^' We'll give them," they wisely conclude at last, 
*' A life 'midst common surroundings cast ; 

We'll give them fifty years and more, 

To spend upon this earthly shore ; 

To walk in confidence side by side. 

And in tender, faithful love abide ; 

They may not expect or desire to see 

A course from sorrow entirely free ; 

That were not best ; privation and care. 

With toil and pain must be part of their share. 

But joy shall be theirs ; the life divine 

Shall in all their human darkness shine ; 

The grace of God and the Saviour's peace 

Through all their changes shall not cease ; 

The cloudy pillar shall be their guide, 

And ever in their home abide ; 



154 Poems, 

'Mid scenes of doubt, mistake and strife, 
Their life shall be known as the Christian life ; 
The constant grace and the hope of heaven 
Shall be theirs to the end, divinely given." 

The years roll onward ; one by one 
Their rapid rounds of change are run ; 
Again 'tis Autumn, and the date 
Is eighteen-hundred and eighty-eight. 
Again the marriage bells are ringing 
And friendly hearts with joy are singing. 
'Tis little that most of us here can know 
Of the wedding of fifty years ago ^ 
But we see before us the self same pair 
Who were the centres of interest there ; 
The same, yet changed ; for their hair is white. 
Their cheeks are wrinkled and dim is their sight ; 
The hands that were quick in toil to engage 
Are now grown heavy and stiff with age ; 
And the steps that used to be ready and strong 
To-day in weakness halt feebly along. 
Full many a pain, both of body and heart, 
In the passing of years has been their part ; 
And what with the care and the tossing about, 
They think it has well-nigh worn them out. 
Yes, they are old, no longer allied 
To manhood's strength and womanhood's pride; 
Bowed down with the weight of years — but stay, 
What did the fairy guardians say 
On that far-off wedding day ? 



Poems, 155 

Their promise, in spite of doubts and fears, 

Notwithstanding aches and sighs and tears, 

Comes shining out through the mists of years. 

The love divine of which they told 

In the lingering ages never grows old ; 

And the joy and hope of this favored pair. 

Outlasting trials of grief and care. 

Still serve them, young, and fresh, and fair. 

Ask them to-day of the love and trust 

That always brighten the path of the just ; 

Ask them if ever the faith-lit star 

Has ceased to gleam through the night afar ; 

Ask them if God has been true to His word 

Amidst the scenes which their life have stirred. 

I know very well what their answer will be. 

That the mercy of God has been steady and free ; 

That though dangers have threatened, and foes have 

assailed, 
The help-giving Presence has never failed. 
So the lesson comes back again at length. 
Those who wait on the Lord renew their strength ; 
And the blessing of wisdom's true right hand 
Is given to such as keep His command. 
They bear life's burdens with cheerfulness, 
For pain has lost its bitterness ; 
They look upon death as a coming release. 
So each day is filled with a quiet peace ; 
No dreads of the future their hearts appall. 
They rest in the fact that He k?tows it all. 
Long life is taken for better or worse. 
For " growing old " is robbed of its curse. 



1^6 Poems. 

God grant that we all may His favor obtain, 
The blessings of faith and wisdom may gain, 
Our full time in this world may gladly remain, 
And the final bliss of heaven attain. 



THE WAR OF THE REBELLION— A PROPHECY. 

The genius of beauty owns many a spot 

In Columbia's happy domain ; 
Full many an Eden whose bloom withers not 

And whose loveliness once had no stain. 
From where the Atlantic with billowy breast 

His spray-bedecked waves dashes high. 
To his echo far West, the Pacific's lone rest. 

There are charms which with heaven might vie. 

But there rises a cloud in Columbia's sky 

Which threatens her altars and homes ; 
Alas ! for her people, a tempest is nigh. 

And they dream not of war till it comes. 
The demon of strife in his fury has vowed 

With wrath to enkindle the scene ; 
Alas ! that the cloud her charms must enshroud. 

Though beauty herself is their queen. 

There is purity, too, that art cannot mar. 

To mortals ' tis ever in view ; 
If they gaze on each star as it gleams from afar, 
'Tis an emblem of purity true. 



Foefns, 157 

These rocks and these hills that at fiat divine 

Sprang forth to their rugged career, 
Majestic and stately proclaim their design 

To embody true purity here. 

But Columbia's altar is tainted with sin, 

She has sacrificed lives not her own ; 
She has bought them of nations, those not of her kin, 

And rivers of blood must atone. 
By her sons on the battle-field blood shall be shed. 

And her daughters bewailing their doom. 
When the battle is sped shall lament for the dead. 

And their homes shall be shrouded in gloom. 

Her people have worshipped and sought divine aid 

At the golden altar true ; 
But the prayers that they prayed and the vows that they 
made 

Have been tainted w^ith selfishness too ; 
Her beautiful banner is soiled by the lust 

That gloats on the clanking chain. 
And the dear old flag must be trailed in the dust 

Or her sons will not notice the stain. 

But the land shall not always be thus distressed. 

Overhead though 'tis stormy and drear ; 
All is bright in the West, and there yet shall be rest. 

For the darkness shall soon disappear ; 
New purity's light shall chase away fears. 

And her beauties again shall reign ; 
For the bloody tears of a few dark years 

Shall cleanse away the stain. 



158 Poems. 

THE SOLDIER'S BURIAL. 

Far away at the South, in his manhood's pride, 

On a blood-red field of strife, 
A soldier lay, and the crimson tide, 
That was welling forth from his wounded side, 

Was stealing away his life. 

Far away from his home and the dear ones there, 

He had laid him down to die 
' Mid the sulphurous smoke that stifled the air, 
^Mid the clashing of arms and the rayless glare 

Of battle that lit up the sky. 

No loving friend could be near him now^, 

To catch his latest breath ; 
No father, in prayer at his side to bow. 
No mother, to soothe his feverish brow. 

Or to soften the pangs of death. 

From his bosom there heaved one bitter sigh 

Ere the spirit had upward flown ; 
And a gathering tear bedimmed his eye 
As he murmured soft " 'Tis hard to die 

On the bloody field alone." 

But a ray of glory flashed from the sky 

And quickened the chilling clay ; 
The martyr's triumph fired his eye : 
*' For God and my country 'tis sweet to die ! " 

And the spirit passed away. 



Foems, 159 

He died — and though men at his humble claim 

No tribute of honor have given, 
The martyr is crowned, and the patriot's name. 
Unwritten perhaps on the roll of fame. 

Is written high in heaven. 

His comrades buried his lifeless clay, 

When the deadly storm is o'er ; 
In the earth's dark bosom they hid it away, 
In rest and in silence to wait for the day 

When the dead shall slumber no more. 

They have gone — all gone — with measured tread. 

And finished their tribute of love ; 
But the prayers that they prayed and the tears that they 

shed. 
As they hallowed their comrade's lowly bed. 

Shall be faithfully treasured above. 

For him the tumult of battle is o'er. 

His soldier work is done ; 
The bugle's call and the cannon's roar 
His sleeping dust shall awaken no more, 

Or the boom of the signal gun. 

No monument marks where his ashes repose ; 

But over the lowly mound 
In fragrant beauty the wildflower grows, 
And scatters its bloom when the Autumn wind blows. 

To embalm the hallowed ground. 

No sentinel watches the sleeping brave, 
While he waits for the morning light ; 



i6o Poems. 

But the pine and the cypress shall over him wave, 
And the willow droop and sigh o'er his grave, 
And weep pearly dew-drops at night. 

But in loving eyes the tears must start. 
For with hope bitter grief is alloyed ; 
The nation's joy cannot ease the smart, 
And in many a home and in many a heart 
There is left an aching void. 



THE CHILDREN'S SERVICE. 

I think it a privilege indeed 

To live in this wonderful age, 
Instead of some other of which I read 

On history's varied page. 
The present brings things that are good and new. 

And to these our attention invites ; 
I am sure 'tis a time of progress true. 

For children are having their rights. 

I can but pity with all my heart 

The people who used to declare 
That only grown folks could have any part 

In the world's great work and care. 
Young blood may not be sufficient alone 

For the burdens and toils of life ; 
But it throbs with an earnestness all its own 

To help in the noble strife. 



Poems. i6i 

I cannot say that 'twas always so, 

Or whether 'twas wrong or right ; 
But when I look back from the tmies that I know, 

There are things that puzzle me quite. 
In Eden, for instance, I cannot see 

What the occupants had to enjoy ; 
Mother Eve never romped in girlish glee. 

And poor Adam was never a boy. 

In Old Testament times, I cannot find out 

That the children had much to do ; 
They were counted in with their parents, no doubt, 

But their duties were very few. 
I wonder w^hy they were given no place 

In the temple worship grand ; 
And why, farther back, the same was the case 

When the tabernacle was planned. 

But the kingdom of God is different now, 

Since the Saviour came and died ; 
His blessing is given — the Gospel tells how — 

On the young evermore to abide. 
He was greatly pleased when He heard them sing. 

In the temple, on one of His days, 
^' Hosanna to Jesus, the Lord and King," 

And He called it the highest praise. 

Things cannot be as they were before ; 
After such a glorious st^rt 



1 62 Poems, 

The world will be purified more and more, 
And the children will have their part. 

They will have it too in the perfect time. 
In the New Jerusalem ; 

For when that city appears in its prime 
Its streets will be full 6i them. 

Then give us a place in the service of praise 

And be careful not to offend ; 
Let us help the anthems of gladness to raise 

And to Christian work attend. 
And when the rich blessings come from above, 

And sweet young lives are given. 
Remember Christ's gracious words of love, 
'' Of such is the kingdom of heaven.'* 



AFTERMATH. 

As I walked in thoughtful mood one day, 
I asked a boy who was busy at play, 
" What time of life is the best? '* 
He laughed and answered with rollicking glee 
Grown people don't have such fun as we, 
The life of a boy is the life for me, 

Don't ask me to wait for the rest,'* 

I asked the same of a maiden fair, 
With cherry lips and golden hair, 
And eyes that sparkled again ; 



Poems. 163 

^' I'm having my best time now/' she said, 
With a meaning toss of her pretty head, 
" Don't tell me of years when youth is fled j 
Life must be dreadful then." 

I saw a student with pallid cheek 
Poring over his Latin and Greek, 

And to him I put the query : 
' ' Oh ! ' ' replied he, ' ' I never can know 
A time of more joy than the present can show. ' ' 
And his face lit up with a strange bright glow. 

Though I knew he was worn and weary. 

I fell to musing on what I had heard ; 
With something of pain my heart was stirred 

As I thought it o'er and o'er : 
Can it be, I said, that I have no right 
To study and work and enjoy the light. 
Because my morning has taken its flight. 

And the days of my youth are no more ? 

I'll not believe 'tis a sin to be old. 

Or that hearts once warm can ever grow cold ; 

I'm sure it cannot be 
That our usefulness fades with the years as they go, 
That Nature any such rule can show. 
Or that God intended it should be so ; 

I'll look about me and see. 

I looked, and I noticed that everywhere 
In the works of Nature, common or rare, 
Is the principle oi growth ; 



164 Poems. 

And 'tis a restful joy to find 
Alike in things of matter and mind, 
That our loving Creator has designed 
The same great law for both. 

To love his play is well for the boy, 
And the youth does well his books to enjoy ; 

But the present improves on the past. 
From one stage of life to another we fly. 
And we grow in strength as the years go by. 
If we love the good with a purpose high ; 

And so the best comes last. 

When God created the beings of earth. 
He first made those of inferior worth. 

And bade them take their place ; 
Proceeding then from whence He began, 
He made the noblest creature, man, 
Of whom the woman finished the plan. 

The whole of His works to grace. 

To improvement His creatures are ever inclined. 
We are fond of calling ourselves '^ refined," 

And ours '' the enlightened age;" 
We see the advancement in science and art. 
Feel the quickening throbs of the world's great heart. 
And hasten to find and perform our part 

On life's progressive stage. 

'Tis surely a fact beyond dispute. 
That God's way is to ripen His fruit 
Before it is ready for use ; 



Poems, 165 

The trees that blossom so sweetly in spring 
Must tarry 'till Autumn their full joy to sing; 
Only October days can bring 

The perfected pulp and juice. 

So 'tis with our life; in childhood and youth 
We put forth blossoms of virtue and truth 

In the ways of love and duty ; 
But we must wait for the summer's heat, 
For the winds of trial upon us to beat ; 
'Tis only these that can complete 

Our promised longed for beauty. 

The day brings to us its choicest boon, 
In the waning hours of the afternoon, 

Most free from care and strife; 
The toil of the morning makes us strong 
For the other work that comes along. 
And we must meet it with smile and song ; 

So too, it is in our life. 

To those who take it for better or worse 
Long life is a blessing and not a curse ; 

The power that is not given 
Through genius and study and passion too, 
Experience brings : and 'tis certainly true 
That our latest work is the best we do. 

If our hearts are inspired from Heaven. 

New months and years fresh blessings give; 
The life allotted us here to live. 
If rightly and honestly spent, 



1 66 Poems. 

Grows richer and better the longer we stay ; 
The ripe fruit follows the blossoms of May ; 
The evening hours are the best of the day ; 
The Aftermath is the sweetest hay ; 
So let us be content. 



BERLIN POND. 

I know that Nature's realm must be 

A realm of beauty, wild and free — 

I know throughout her wide domain 

A thousand charms forever reign ; 

But if there is a lovely dell, 

Where beauty's self delights to dwell — 

If there exists on earth a spot, 

Whose power once felt is ne'er forgot — 

Where tears and sorrow all are drowned, 

And Lethean bliss is ever found 

From rudely clashing storms of sin. 

And passions vile that rage within — 

Where unbelief may find a cure. 

And change to peace, refined and pure — 

Where men of thought may find a store 

Of mental wealth ne'er dreamed before — 

Where men of mirth may still be gay. 

Nor cease to '' drive dull care away" — 

Where men of woe at care may laugh. 

And poets inspiration quaff— 



Poems, 167 

Where all may know, and worship too, 

The God of nature kind and true — 

If such a place I ever met, 

Where memory loves to linger yet, 

Attracted by a magic bond, 

I'm sure that place was Berlin Pond. 

I've climbed the mountain's craggy steep, 

I've stood beside the raging deep — 

The cavern's dismal gloom I've viewed, 

And pierced the forest's solitude — 

I've marked the river calm and still. 

And played beside the laughing rill — 

I've watched the glow of setting day 

Fade in the twilight shade away — 

The sun, ere yet he sank to rest, 

With parting lialo^ild the west; 

I've stood when night her veil had thrown 

O'er all but angel eyes alone. 

And gazed with wonder on each star. 

Found in the azure vault afar. 

And thought and gazed, and gazed and thought 

On what Almighty power had wrought. 

I've seen the storm-cloud hurry by. 
Careering madly through the sky. 
Surcharged with fiery, vapory wrath — 
Destruction following in its path. 
I've seen the lightning's murderous stroke 
Descend and crush the giant oak. 
These have a power to move the heart 
Beyond the reach of human art — 



Poe7?ts. 

And each of Nature's phases may 
Have still its own peculiar way 
To stir the emotion of the mind — 
Yet once I found them all combined. 
Whate'er of Eden's primal bliss 
Remains in such world as this — 
(And naught but man its end has failed, 
On whom the curse of sin's entailed) 
Whate'er of beauty there can be — 
Whate'er of life and purity — . 
Whate'er can memory's shrine unlock, 
Without too keen and rude a shock. 
And kindle recollections fond — 
I found all these at Berlin Pond. 

*Twas evening, calm, and bright, and still— 
For trusting Nature knows no ill — 
And all above, and all around 
With summer's brilliant tints was crowned. 
The clouds had parted, and unrolled. 
Like sable curtains fringed with gold. 
Hung oler the gilded couch where lay 
In gorgeous robes the king of day. 
The western hills had caught the glow, 
And seemed like angel guards below. 
Thus in the far-off peaceful west. 
The sun in glory sank to rest. 
While beasts and birds, inspired to sing. 
The goodness of their Lord and King, 
And zephyrs soft, in tuneful praise. 
All joined the vesper hymn to raise. 



Poems, 169 



Amid its train of dancing rills — 
Within its triple wreath of hills, 
Nestled so low it scarce revealed 
The modest beauty half concealed, 
The lakelet lay before our sight. 
Like a huge crystal, clear and bright. 
Cased in an emerald setting fair 
By Him who fashions jewels rare. 
In soft repose the waters lay. 
Harmonious with the fading day — 
While evening breezes soft and sweet. 
Played with the ripples at our feet. 
The tranquil moon with silver sheen. 
Looked down upon the lovely scene. 
And smiled to see her radiant face 
Reflected back with double grace — ■ 
Near where a group of islets lay, 
A boat went gliding on its way — 
And notes of joy unmixed with care 
Rang out upon the evening air — 
Whil^ echo, when the note had died, 
Caught up the breath it dashed aside. 
And sped from hill to hill around. 
Till each had murmered back the sound. 
Oh ! 'twas a season ne'er to be 
Unheeded, or forgot by me, 
Until oblivion's tide shall roll 
O'er all the treasures of the soul ; 
For all around at such an hour 
Is gifted with a magic power ; 



170 Poems. 

And scenes like this to joys give birth 
Unmixed with mortal things of earth. 
A chotd is struck within the soul, 
Which makes the sweetest accents roll, 
Vibrating to the Wdden touch 
Of God's own hand, a,iid owns it such. 

But here's a lesson for us each 
That model Nature fain would teach- 
As calm and pure the waters rest 
Upon the lakelet's placid breast, 
So, clear and pure our lives should be 
From passion, pride, and envy free. 
When soft and still the water lies. 
Unmoved by zephyrs' faintest sighs, 
A mirror huge and bright it seems. 
Reflecting back with golden beams 
The moon above — but when 'tis wrought 
By stormy winds with mischief fraught. 
The image vanishes from sight, 
And leaves a formless, dancing light — 
So 'tis with us, whate'er we will — 
When calm within all else is still- 
But if the mind by deed or word 
To raging passions e'er is stirred. 
In reason's light no longer free, 
Distorted forms are all we see. 
The mighty lake, though one it seems. 
Is formed of many tiny streams 
So, much from little often springs. 
Our lives are made of little things. 



Poems, 1 7 r 

These simple truths, with meaning rife, 
Are meet for every phase of life. 
Thus on that summer evening fair, 
With mellow light and balmy air, 
I sought for inspiration true. 
To embalm in verse that charming view. 
And should I wish to seek again. 
The magic power I sought for then. 
For earthly themes or aught beyond, 
I'd seek it still at Berlin Pond. 



THE MOUNTAINS. 



I. 



Thank God for the mountains ! Unstinted in measure. 

Earth's storehouse of purity, vigor, aad health; 
To which, wearied out in the hunt for gross treasure. 

We turn for the finding of holier wealth. 
Where the ardor of strife and the fever of passion 

Are cooled by the touch of the Maker's own hand ; 
Where, released from the fetters of business and fashion. 

The life of man's spirit finds room to expand. 

II. 

For the spirit that's in us grows sordid and small, 

'Midst the tossings and whirlings of what we call life ; 
We ignore the high aim of eternity's call. 
And are lost in the noise of material strife. 



172 Poe7ns, 

That our nature is human is true to the letter ; 

Our acts are self-centered ; and, what makes it worse, 
We forget in our rage that there's anything better; 

The blessing of spirithood turns to a curse. 

III. 

Our language is jangled. We say to each other 

The things we suppose are most useful to tell ; 
But if one doesn't know the soul of his brother, 

How can he commune with him truly and well ? 
So we lose the best use of what should be our glory. 

And into confusion and bitterness fall ; 
The proud plain of Shinar repeats its old story. 

For Babel is sadly pronounced on us all. 

IV. 

There's a cure for this evil. Not '^life giving fountains," 
"• Philosophers' stones," and all that kind of thing: 
Heaven runs a branch office on earth' s lofty mountains, 

And scatters to mortals the gifts of her King. 
These gifts — His best gifts — in the richest profusion 

By any tired mortal his own may be made : 
Let him flee to the hills and their healthul seclusion_, 

Apart from the trials of traffic and trade. 

V. 

There spirit with spirit in freedom and union, 

Unbarred from the largeness of Nature's own skies, 

May hold in sincerity sweetest communion. 

And speak its own thoughts through the lips or the eyes. 



Poems, 173 

There the sensitive one who in much tribulation 
The pathway of bitterness slowly has trod, 

May be calmed by the myriad notes of creation, 
Or hearken in awe to the whisper of God. 

VI. 

Then hail to the Genius of travel and motion, 

Whose praises we haven't the time to discuss ; 
Who makes all the forces of land and of ocean 

His servants to do this great favor for us. 
Then when from thick cares and their much watched 
abuses, 

He asks you to join in a grand holiday, 
Don't grumble and worry and make the excuses, 

But, drop everything, and hurry away. 






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E. P. Wild, 1869. 

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God moves in a mys - te - rious way, His wonders to per - foim; 

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He plants His footsteps in the sea, And rides up- on the storm. 

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Tin fl&emoriam 



RUTH SIBLEY NICHOLS 

WIFE OF 
EDWARD P. WILD 



'''Behold^ He taketh away, who can hinder Him ? Who will say 
unto Him, what dost Thou ? " 



" When we consider the work of her hfe and the preparation for 
greater usefulness which experience had given her, we say, under the 
Hmitations of human judgment, that she was called away too soon; 
but in that infinitely broad view of individual life and character which 
lies open to the divine mind, we can only say that we believe that in 
God's thought the exact moment for her departure had arrived. 

That life is complete that is full, no matter whether its reach be 
long or short. It would seem as though the years of her life had 
been reasonably well filled in the pursuit of those things which minister 
to life's great end, and that now she has passed into a closer union with 
that Being, in doing whose will on earth she found her chief delight." 



^''Lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were 
not divided P 



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